Five Days in Porter
by tellyoscar
Summary: Porter, VA - Population: 299. Michonne makes an unwanted trip to an odd little Virginia town just in time for their annual turnip festival. Repeated encounters with the town's mayor leads to an unexpectedly enjoyable stay.
1. Day 1

Here's a weird/fun little story I started writing some time ago. It's only going to be around five chapters and I've partially written them already. I hope you enjoy!

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 **Day 1**

Porter, VA - Population: 299

There are very few experiences more bizarre than hearing deafening Christmas music booming from loudspeaker in May. Michonne had always been of the belief that such music should cease to exist upon the arrival of December 26th, never to be heard again until after the following Thanksgiving.

She hesitantly stepped out of her car surveying the sparsely occupied parking lot. She mentally weighed her options considering how wise it would be to interact with the occupants of the peculiar establishment.

"What is this place?" she muttered, marching reluctantly toward the entrance of the diner with the faded sign all the while wishing she was back in her condo enjoying the view of the city from her patio with her cat. _Only because I love her._

The bell over the door jingled when she entered the empty diner. Oddly enough, the music was blasting from large speakers outside instead of something overhead inside the restaurant. The music was still audible with the closed door, but the setup was very peculiar.

 _This is why I don't do small towns in the middle of nowhere. Breeding ground for weird shit._

"Hello?" She almost chuckled to herself at how much she sounded like a woman in a horror movie. "I'm looking for some directions!"

She looked around the small diner, which had all the familiar trappings she imagines a small town diner would. It was narrow and elongated with a service counter at the center with checker-tiled floors. There was even a large jukebox on the far side of the diner.

 _And the Christmas bells that ring there_

 _Are the clanging chimes of doom_

 _Well, tonight thank God, it's them_

 _Instead of you_

The obnoxious music stopped and she heard movement from somewhere in the back of the diner. she clutched her the pepper spray hidden in her purse, prepared to defend herself from some small town psycho if necessary.

"Somebody out there?"

"Yeah. I'm a little lost actually. I'm looking for…" Her voice trailed off as a man wearing a welding mask emerged from the swinging double doors.

 _Hell no!_

"Yes?" He removed the welding helmet to reveal his volumeless mullet and a strangely blank facial expression.

"Porter. The town?"

"Well it's your lucky day, because you're standing in it," he said. "Starting from this fine establishment and ending at the Greene farm on the edge of Coley Road. Welcome to Porter."

"Oh...that's great. Perfect." She smiled, but she was sure it looked more like a grimace. "I didn't see a sign or anything and my GPS can't seem to identify the address I'm trying to find. I don't know what's going on with it. I guess this place is both difficult and easy to find."

"The sign is back there," he nodded towards the back of the diner where he emerged. "Was fixing a bit of the lightning damage. Thunderstorms are mighty unpredictable. I should be done in a jiffy and have it back up by the days end."

"...Okay." She didn't know how else she was supposed to comment. "Well I'm looking for 11 Belcher road. I'm not sure if you can point me in the –"

The bell chimed behind her cutting off her request as a man spoke behind her in a husky drawl. "I don't know what it is with that machine. The stuff still down, Eugene?"

"Uh, yes sir."

Michonne turned to find the _sir_ and came face to face with a darked-haired man that she would mentally describe as a very attractive cowboy. He wore a dark blue button-down shirt, partially tucked in his blue jeans and the his booted feet completed the countryside flair.

"Oh, we have a visitor in Porter?" His smile was warm and inviting and she found herself automatically returning it, getting lost in his sky blue orbs.

"Uh, yes." She refrained from calling him sir. "I'm was a little lost, but apparently, I'm in the right place. I just need to figure out where exactly I'm going. Or hell, even where I am."

"I'd be happy to help. Who're you looking for? It's a small community. Everybody knows everybody."

"Maya Moreau. She lives on Belcher road."

He gave her a slow once over. "A relative?"

"Yeah."

"She's recovering mighty fine from her hip surgery." The man named Eugene said. "You're going to need to head down on Colma, then take the first left onto Boring and then another left will get you right on Belcher. Her house will be the third one down."

"Okay I might need to write this all down. Could you repeat that?" She reached for her phone opening the notes.

"I'm actually headed that way I just stopped to drop something off for Eugene. You can follow me home," he said, taking a step toward her. He was close. He also smelled nice, she noticed. "Maya is my neighbor."

"Oh, well this all works out then." She laughed nervously, which was uncharacteristic of her. She was feeling hot all of a sudden, despite the mild weather and air conditioned diner. "Thanks so much."

"Not a problem. You'll always find help in Porter." His words felt as if they had a deeper meaning she didn't quite understand.

"I'm Michonne by the way," she said holding out her hand.

"I'm Rick. Rick Grimes."

"Nice to meet you Rick."

"Good to meet you too."

He turned, handing a small brown parcel to Eugene. "This is it. Do you think you'll be able to fix the machine."

"Do I?" he scoffed. "Come Saturday and it's done."

"Good to hear."

Rick Grimes drove a black suburban truck with 'Borough of Porter' in white lettering across the side. Michonne followed him in her own car through the secluded little town, that up until today she only heard in passing when speaking to her mother, until he pulled up near a large three story victorian style house.

He exited his car, approaching hers and she rolled down her window.

"That's her over there," he said, pointing across the street.

"Thanks again."

"Happy to help." He nodded, his eyes remaining fixed on hers. "So how long will you be in Porter for?"

"Not long," she replied, unable to tear her own eyes away. "Five days or so. Then I have to get back to...everything."

"Well hopefully I'll see a lot of you around during these five days."

 _Was he flirting?_

"Maybe you will."

She sure was flirting back. There was no harm in that. He was a very good looking man.

"I should get going, we have a meeting soon. I'm sure Maya won't miss it, so I'll probably see you there Michonne." Her name sounded like honey (if honey had a sound) coming from his mouth.

"Okay," she said, even though she doubted she would be leaving the house for the rest of the day once she was inside. Her day had been long and unusual enough.

She pulled in front of what she presumed was her mother's new house, not bothering to lug her bag inside as yet. She smiled to herself remembering her mother's fondness for homes that resembled dollhouses with its elaborate trims, bright colors, and spacious grounds.

She was surprised to be greeted with no response when she rang the doorbell. She twisted the handle on the door and it was unsurprisingly locked.

"Just perfect." She glanced around the house wondering if she should look for a back door. Perhaps her mother simply didn't hear her. Was this even the right house? Was it the right Porter?

 _Of course it is. What are the odds of two Maya Moreau's living in two different Porters?_

Besides, she'd never heard of this Porter, so she highly doubted there were two within a two hour driving distance of her apartment. She silently cursed at her own stupidity for not coming back to the states sonner when she heard about the accident.

"You looking for Maya?" An older gentleman with wispy white hair was standing at the end of the drive, stooped over a wooden cane. He smiled kindly at her.

"Yeah, she's not answering the door for some reason," she answered. "I doubt she would have gone anywhere. She's expecting me."

"Town meeting," he replied, in a raspy voice.

"Town meeting?"

"It's the first Tuesday." He said as if it were some kind of explanation she would understand.

Michonne's frustration with the day was growing. "She just had hip surgery!"

"She's recovering very well," he commented, before turning to continue his amble down the street. "I bet she's already at Town Hall. You coming?"

Going against everything she learned from city life, Michonne resignedly descended the stone steps to follow the gray-haired elder to where she assumed the Town Hall was located.

"You must be the daughter," he said casually starting up a conversation as she walked in pace with his slow shuffle. "With the unique name. What was it again? She always talks about you."

"It's Michonne."

"That's it!"

"So, what is this town meeting all about? Something important happen?" She couldn't imagine why else people would want to attend. It didn't sound very appealing.

"I told you," he said. "We have them every month. Mayor Grimes likes to keep them going. It's like a tradition in a sense. Most people come out."

"Interesting," Michonne said, wondering why her mother picked this strange little town out of all places to retire. "I didn't know little towns like this had mayors."

"Someone has to run the town and that's essentially what the board is for," he explained. "We have an election every other year. We elect a treasurer and a clerk and all that too. Usually the same people though, because not many newbies in Porter. Our population only grew by one in the last year."

"Well that's something." She made a mental note to do a quick google search on the history of the town. It would probably be a part of one of those clickbait articles listing the strangest places in America.

"You'll like it here in Porter. We're a friendly closed-knit bunch."

"That's nice," Michonne said. "I've been meaning to spend more time with my mother. I haven't been since she decided to move out here. She always the one that visits me."

"She'll be happy to see you. That I know. Well here we are," he said stopping in front of the tall white wood building with a high steeple. There was a sign out front reading 'St. Sarah's Episcopal Church' despite another sign with the words 'Town Hall' in large black lettering on the opposite side.

"Town Hall is also a church?" she asked incredulously.

"It's a very small town," he shrugged. "We switch signs depending on the occasion. We have a guy for that stuff. Eugene. He gets a kick out of it. A weird one, that one."

As they approached the church, she noticed the very same Eugene, the sign enthusiast from the diner, on his way inside and she couldn't help but laugh at how surreal her day was turning out to be. "I better not end up in a torture chamber in somebody's basement at the end of all this."

"Pardon?" the man asked, furrowing his brow at her odd declaration.

"Nothing," she said shaking her head at her own silliness. "Thanks so much for your help. It was nice talking to you. I guess I should find Maya."

When they entered the church, Michonne craned her neck looking for her mother. The first face her eyes landed on, however, was none other than Rick Grimes, who she now realized must also be Mayor Grimes.

He was seated at the front of the church (or town hall as it was currently called and operated) with four men and three women, who she assumed were part of the elected board. The remainder of half of the town's inhabitants sat in pews listening to what was being discussed.

One of the board members, a caramel skinned woman with a large curly afro stood and started summarizing a proposed budget for a festival that will take place the following year. She must have been the treasurer. She drowned out most of what was being said, until Rick started speaking.

It seemed there would be a largely anticipated event taking place in Porter that Saturday and the big haired treasurer, who Rick referred to as Sasha, based the proposed budget on their spending for said festival.

Rick's eyes were now on her and his sentence trailed off as people turned to see the latecomer that diverted his attention. She looked away, spotting her mother who gleefully waved her over. She moved down the side aisle trying to avoid being too much of a distraction as she approached the woman who shared many of her features.

"Hi baby." Maya smiled giving Michonne a quick kiss on the cheek as she slipped next to her. "Welcome to Porter."

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 **Hope you enjoyed this! Let me know what you think. Do you like it? Interested?**

 **Porter is a completely made up town.**


	2. Day 2

**Day 2**

Porter, VA - Population: 299

The morning sky was bright and cloudless and the air still and tranquil. The neighborhood was deceptively quiet. Other than the twin voices, the only sounds were the creaking sound of rope against wood and the birds chirping merrily in the solar lighted fluted bird bath in the center of the garden.

"A turnip festival?"

Michonne smiled at the chirping birds, surprised gardening held her fickle mother's interest long enough for her to cultivate an immaculately landscaped front yard.

It was impressive.

"Yes, we have it every year. It's a longstanding tradition."

"And your plan is for us to make sculptures out of turnips to enter a competition at the festival?" Michonne asked making sure she was understanding what her mother was proposing.

"A sculpture, not sculptures. I want to stand out. Nobody'll think to do that. I think we can win this year and beat Annette Greene." Maya reached for her tea cup, taking a dainty sip. "I can't believe you've never visited me out here. It took a broken hip to finally drag you to Porter."

Michonne sighed, kicking her feet to make the porch swing rock in a faster, but steady, back and forth motion. "How are you feeling Mom?"

"I feel fine. Like a spring chicken," she assured her. "It's been over a month since the surgery. I can move around without breaking anything else."

"Okay. Just making sure," Michonne said. "So, where exactly are we going to get all these turnips to make a sculpture the size of the kitchen table? You growing some out back?"

"No, but Porter's probably got enough turnips to last us through an apocalypse. One of Hershel's kids will probably bring a truckload over later if I don't make it over there myself."

"A truckload!"

"I'm kidding," she laughed. "Mostly."

Michonne shook her head, glancing across the lawn to the black suburban truck parked in the driveway opposite theirs. "So, you live next door to the town's mayor, huh?" she asked, keeping her tone nonchalant.

The house stood silently and tall across the street. It's muted brown color and barely tended grounds stood out in stark contrast with the bright and almost fantastical home of her mother. It appeared almost ominous. She idly wondered if he lived alone. Like her mother's house, it was rather large for one person.

If it wasn't for the packed church the night before she would have been convinced her mother moved to an abandoned town with three other people.

"That title is a little more casual than it sounds. I take it you've met," Maya responded with a knowing smile. "I saw him making eyes at you yesterday at the meeting. When you walked in. I noticed that."

"He was not." He was, but she wasn't going to admit that to Maya.

"I invited him over for dinner with us, by the way."

"No you didn't." They'd been indoors all morning and they left the meeting without mingling. It was highly unlikely that her mother saw Rick.

Unless she invited him before.

"What? He's my neighbor. He's handsome and he's single. You're single too. I'd like some grandkids one day. I say you single folks should mingle." She gave her daughter a playful nudge, letting her know she was joking. Mostly. "But, no. I didn't invite him. Yet."

"I'm not trying to date right now. Especially not out here."

"What's wrong with out here? That's what cars are for sweetie."

"You're nuts. Literally. You know that right?"

She winked, wearing an amused grin. "And you love me for it."

Michonne felt a familiar heaviness in her chest, growing emotional. She supposed she did miss Maya more than she allowed herself to think.

She had a unique upbringing. As a child, having a free-spirited artist slash dance instructor as a mother had its perks. Maya was the permissive, non-directive parent, who sometimes felt more like a friend than a parent.

"I love you, mom."

Maya smiled, leaning back against the swing as she watched her daughter. "You do know I'm not dying yet right? It's just hip surgery."

"Yes Maya," Michonne playfully rolled her eyes, letting out a lighthearted laugh. "I know you're not dying. I just thought you should know. I don't say it enough."

"Well, I love you too. More than words," she said. "You know, sometimes I miss when you were little. Your dad and I always used to take you on afternoon walks and we used to play that game. He'd always sing that song. What was it?"

" _More than all the water in the seven seas_ ," Michonne sang, attempting to mimic her late father's baritone. She was surprised to hear Maya, who was fond of burying painful or negative feelings, speaking of him.

Maya drew in a deep slow breath, staring off into the distance at nothing in particular. "Usually around this time, I like to water the plants. I get lots of compliments on my yard. I like it. I feel like that's what people in places like this should do. I'm embracing this new lifestyle." She slid herself forward on the swing, wincing as she stood.

Michonne's hands automatically shot out as worry crossed her face. "You okay?"

"A little pain is all," she said, waving her off. "That's what I get for challenging a twelve year old to a rollerblading match. That smug little asshole."

"Mom!"

"What?" she asked, innocently. "He was."

Michonne rose from the swing, reaching for the watering can near the railing. "I can water them, Mom. I'm here so you can relax. Besides I can learn or thing or two from you. This place looks amazing. I might get some house plants for my apartment."

"First of all, you're only here to spend time with me." She relinquished the watering can, putting both hands on her hips. "I wouldn't mind some help though. Rick usually stops over, but you're good too. Most of this is his doing you know. He saw me out here one day struggling with a spade and just came over and offered to help. I wouldn't have kept this up without him."

"The mayor doubles as your landscaper?"

"It's a hobby." Maya defended over her shoulder as she entered the house. "People in Porter are multi-talented too."

Michonne shook her head at the woman, kicking off her slippers to exchange them for Maya's gardening boots.

She skipped down the front steps, humming softly to herself as she approached the hydrangeas with the metal watering can. She smiled up at the sky as she felt the warm sunlight on her skin.

She crouched down on the garden path, lined with a wide variety of hydrangea on both sides, shifting the petals away to moisten the rich dark soil below.

"Morning neighbor." Her stomach fluttered at the sound of the voice. The same one she heard behind her for the first time the day prior.

She turned, looking up to find him standing on the pathway leading to the house smiling at her. Her heart almost stopped at the sight and she was momentarily lost in his deep blue orbs that seemed to have so much written in them. "Hi."

"Gardening?"

"Uh, just attempting to help," she said, rising to her feet. "My mother said you did most of this. It's beautiful."

"It's a hobby. Wouldn't have started without her," he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. She watched, and got a little lost in, the rise and fall of his sculpted chest under his denim button down. "Maya's the actual brains behind the whole operation."

"Sounds like Maya."

"So, how're you liking Porter so far?" he asked, moving closer to where she stood.

"Alright. Then again, I've only really seen the diner, the church, and the inside of my mother's house. You're the second person I'm seeing for the day."

"That's a shame. It has a lot more to offer."

"Well, you're the mayor, so I think you'd be the best person to ask. What else does it have to offer? What do people do here?"

"A little bit of everything," he said as his mouth twisted into a grin.

"Well, that doesn't give away much," she said. "No tourist attractions? I am a tourist after all."

"I can probably show more than I can tell, but if you like great food and you're a nature and a book lover, you should take a trip to main street," he said. "We also have a pretty popular hiking trail overlooking the lake."

"I'll have to look into that."

"Now that I think about it I don't think I like that my job got stolen by a newcomer though," he teased taking another a step toward where she stood, clutching the watering can to her chest. He stood as close as he did in the diner the day before.

"Well I —" The quippy response she was planning to give was interrupted by the slamming front door and her mother's voice.

"Morning Rick."

"How ya doin' Maya?" He answered without tearing his piercing eyes away from hers. And as if he was holding her in a trance, she didn't immediately look away either.

"I'm alright," she said, appearing at the top of the steps. "Happy to finally have my daughter come visit me. How's your father doing?"

He broke their steady eye contact to look at Maya as he answered.

"He's alright. I stopped by the cabin the other day to check in. He's worse than Eugene with his hijinks sometimes. He's building some kind of contraption out there and it seems like he doesn't want me to know what it is."

Maya offered a sympathetic smile, while Michonne, being nosy, tried to mentally decode the meaning behind their brief conversation. "He'll come around."

Rick sighed, putting both hands on his waist. "I sure hope so."

"You know, you should join us for dinner tonight. We'd love the company."

He hesitated, shifting his eyes between Michonne's rigid stance near the garden and her mother's fervid grin. "I'd hate to impose on family time. Plus, I've actually got some —"

Maya didn't let him finish his excuse. "It's not an imposition at all, we'd be happy to have you. Won't we Chonney?"

"Yeah."

"Then it's settled?" It sounded more like a statement despite the upward inflection at the end of the sentence. "Dinner is at six."

"How about tomorrow night? If that's okay with you. I really do have something tonight."

"Tomorrow then. I'm holding you to that Mister."

"Okay," he chuckled. "Yes ma'am. I'll be here, Maya. I'm looking forward to it."

"What are you up to today, by the way?"

He ran a hand through his dark curly hair, his muscles flexing as he looked back to his truck. "I'm actually headed over to the Greene farm now. I'll head down to the station later."

"Oh goodie! I was supposed to get some seedlings from Hershel, but I don't feel up to it." She winced, placing a hand on her hip. "The turnips for the festival too. Shawn was going to bring them over later, but if it's not too much of a bother, could you?"

"Sure. Anything for you Maya." He glanced over at Michonne, who had started watering the plants again. "You can come along too if you want. See a little more of the town than just the diner and Maya's house."

"That's actually a great idea!" Maya explained. "Sweetheart, you'll love it. This place is such a beauty. You were talking about doing a bit of sightseeing."

Well she couldn't say no to that.

"Uh yeah," She glanced down at her flannel shorts that she usually reserved for wearing around the house and the old boots of Maya's she was wearing. The usually immaculately put together woman looked, to her personal standards, a mess. "Let me just change into something else and then we can go."

 **~….~**

Porter had all the quaint attributes of a small secluded town. Rick pointed areas of interest as they drove past the vintage shops on main street, the old train tracks, and the lake that lay in the valley beneath the vivid mighty green mountains.

It was apparently a popular place for summer picnics and and the annual hike fest.

Throughout the drive Michonne was hyper-aware of his nearness inside the vehicle. She felt his every movement from when he leaned over to wave and greet familiar faces to when he was simply breathing.

"I thought it was just my mother's house, but I can't seem to get any phone service anywhere in this town," Michonne said, as she stared at the little red bang exclamation sign next to the text message she attempted to send. Since she arrived, but only ever had one bar at the most.

"Some parts of this town are basically cellular dead zones. Depends on your carrier too. Only a handful are semi functional."

"That's just perfect," she sighed, putting the phone away to look at the man in the driver's seat. "I've never even heard of this place before Maya moved here. I didn't even bother to look it up. About how many people live here?"

"Two hundred ninety-nine. Not one more. Not one less."

"It's that small?"

"The towns population has been declining over the years," he said. "And it makes sense that people would leave what with the military invasion and the nuclear explosion that gave us all weird mutations."

She looked at him as if he had grown three heads. "What?"

He grinned, his eyes lit with a twinkle of mischief. He likely sensed her trepidation of the remarkably small town. "I'm just messing with you. Porter isn't as weird as you think it is. Believe it or not, you came during the second most exciting time of the year. The rest of it is pretty dull and routine, to be honest."

"But, now you've got me thinking." She turned in her seat so she was facing him. "Small place like this is bound to have secrets. What's the story? When things get too dull and routine, something scandalous just _has_ to pop off."

"You a reporter for the _Times_ or something?"

"I'm a graphic designer actually."

"How would you feel knowing you're currently the only graphic designer in Porter?"

"Well I guess that's not too surprising. Do you guys even have a police station? I can't imagine crime is much of a problem."

"We do actually. What kind of place do you take this for?" he asked, pretending to be offended. "It's a really small one. We only have one tiny holding cell, and two officers but it's a station. I used to be the police chief. Now I'm just head of public safety."

She burst into fit of laughter. "Mayor, landscaper and now police. Is there anything that you don't do?"

He offered a bemused smile, stroking his chin as if he were trying to recall some of his forgotten professions. "Jack of all trades. I'm still working on becoming the town's third doctor."

"Oh a comedian too? I'm getting more impressed by the minute Mayor Grimes."

He smirked, looking her up and down. "Are you? Well I'm not going to lie and say I'm not happy about that."

They pulled off the main road turning onto a path parted between overgrown trees. The thick gravel crackled under the weight of the truck's tires as they reached a clearing leading to vast farmland. The farm looked as if it grew out of the surrounding viridescent hills, existing for as long as the surrounding scenery. A bright red barn in the distance sat behind the rowing field of crops, fulfilling every imaginative picture of a farm Michonne's mind could conjure up.

Rick drove toward the large brick house where the Greene's lived. "Welcome to the Greene farm. This is where we get the majority of our produce. Ready to haul our bushel of turnips?"

"Speaking of turnips, what are you doing for this famous festival?" she asked as they climbed out of the truck.

"I was going to be a judge, but then Maya managed to loop me in."

"Uh oh. What does she have you doing?"

"Apparently I can add artist to my resumé soon."

"The sculpture?"

"The very one."

"Well then we both got looped in," she said. "I got recruited this morning."

"Hey Rick!" A young woman with chin-length brown hair approached them with a warm smile. "I didn't know you were stopping by today." She glanced at his companion, offering a friendly smile. "Hi. I'm Maggie."

"Michonne."

"This is Maya's daughter," Rick further explained to Maggie. "She's visiting for the week."

"Nice to meet you. Welcome to Porter."

"I'm just passin' through today. Hershel had somethin' for me and I need to grab some turnips and seedlings for Maya."

Maggie shook her head. "Don't let Mama hear that name 'round here until after the festival. You know how competitive she gets. Her head will spin around like she's in _The Exorcist._ "

"Oh I know better than to get myself into that kind of trouble. That's why she loves me."

"Daddy left the crates over by the side of the house," she said, pointing to where they were.

The three of them started to walk back toward the house. "He home?"

"He just got back. Mama needed a lot more food coloring. It's like his third trip out to get some more."

"What is she making?"

Maggie put her hands on her hips, giving Rick a playful glare. "Now you know I'm sworn to secrecy, Rick Grimes." She pointed between him and Michonne. "The two of you are on the rival team. I'm not lettin' anything slip."

Rick leaned toward her and whispered in her ear. "Worth a try, huh?" His breath tickled her neck and she was briefly distracted by how nice he smelled. She fought the urge to lean in closer.

"I'm assuming we're talking about the festival?"

"We're taking them down this weekend," he whispered conspiratorially.

The Greene family were a welcoming bunch. Hershel Greene was a tall gray-haired man with kind eyes and a warm smile behind his bushy beard. He spoke fondly of Maya and wished them luck for whatever she had planned.

Michonne had no doubt they were going to need it.

Rick brought the truck closer to the house and together, they all loaded four crates of turnips into the back of the truck. When they were finished, Michonne was convinced her mother was as nutty as she always thought she was.

The drive back was much quieter. The drove with the windows down and Rick had turned on the radio to a jazz station. Michonne relaxed to the sound of the soothing lyrics, enjoying the now familiar views as they passed. She would occasionally take small peeks at his profile admiring his angular features, only to find him taking peeks of his own.

There was lots of unexpected eye contact followed by quick aversion of the eyes.

This time when they drove through Main Street, the place was bustling. People walked in and out of stores and there was even a group of men installing street banners for the festival.

Before Rick could turn down on the street leaning away from the center of town, they were startled by a loud echoing pops. They exchanged alarmed look and peered out the windows to see people pointing somewhere behind them.

"Oh, what now?" Rick groaned, reaching for his door handle.

"Was that a...gunshot?" Michonne wondered aloud.

"Doubt it. Didn't sound like one."

It seemed everyone on Main Street was now outside looking for the source of the noise.

"Tyreese what's going on here?" Rick asked, approaching a brawny dark-skinned man wearing a green apron.

"Don't know. I just came out of the shop. Sounds like fireworks."

"Yeah," said Rick. "But in the day time?"

"Was it gunshots?" an elderly woman nearby asked, her voice loud through the murmuring crowd.

"Up there!" Someone yelled pointing to the top of a red brick building with a sign that read _Horvath Book Shop_.

Michonne squinted noticing someone's head peeking out from the top of the roof. "Sorry," the person, a man, said with a small wave.

"Eugene!" Rick chuckled, shaking his head. "What the hell are you doing up there?"

"That was completely accidental and I used too much black powder. I wasn't trying to set off the rocket. My apologies."

"It's his model rocket," Rick explained, in a lower voice to the surrounding people. "Probably paired with some fireworks. Nothing to be alarmed about. Everything's fine."

"Well that's a relief," someone said, sarcastically.

"Alright, well come down from there and be careful next time. That could cause another fire," Rick called up at the peculiar man. "You're already breaking a bunch of fire codes, Eugene. I don't want to have to write you up."

"Sorry," he repeated again, sounding truly remorseful. "I think it landed in an open field. I have a fire extinguisher with me too. I planned ahead."

"I thought he wanted to go up there to read, not start another fire," a man grumbled. Michonne recognized him as the kind gentleman who helped her find the Town Hall the day before. She never caught his name, but now it was obvious that he worked in or owned the bookstore.

"I feel like I'm in the freaking Twilight zone," Michonne said, watching as people returned to their own devices, waving off Eugene.

Perhaps this was a regular part of their dull and routine daily life.

Eugene apologized again when he returned to the street level and faced Rick, who informed him he would be getting off with a warning this time. Michonne noticed that his mullet had much more volume than the day before.

"This is definitely going to make front page of our town's newspaper," Rick said, once they were back in the truck. "Explosion causes a spectacle on main street. I can see it now."

"I'm guessing Porter has a fire department, right? Or is it shared with another town?" Michonne asked, wondering how long it would take to get a response if there was a fire.

"We do," he said. "That's actually under the department of public safety."

"No way!" Michonne doubled over hitting her knees and Rick joined in on the laugher as well. They received some odd looks from passersby since they were sitting in a truck with the windows down and laughing like a pair of maniacs.

When she was finally able to speak again she said, "you —you're not telling me —you're in charge of the fire department too."

"Well I've never fought fires, we have volunteer firefighters for that, but yes it's under my department. EMS too."

"I freaking love this place," she said as their laughter died down. "I'm going to start making a list."

"Hopefully that means I was a good host."

"I'm adding that to the list too. What is that? Job number five?"

"And you say I'm the comedian."

 **~….~**

"How did it go?" Maya asked, after Rick unloaded her truckload of turnips and went about his daily routine. They settled in the kitchen, where Maya eventually got started on dinner. She declared that she was going all out for the week. They'd have one of Michonne's favorites every night.

"Seems like a nice little town," Michonne said. "A little on the weird side, but nice. Some dude was shooting fireworks from the top of the bookstore on Main Street."

"Eugene?"

"Yeah. Apparently he's the town arsonist."

"Eugene is just a very unique young man," he mother said. "He's too smart for his own good. I think it just gets him restless sometimes. He's a doer. An experimenter. He was probably trying out a trick for the festival."

"You always have a positive spin for everything don't you?"

"I'm living my new life as an optimist. You should try it."

"I'd hate to get to idealistic." Michonne picked up a turnip from one of the crates on the kitchen floor. "How the hell are we going to turn all of these turnips in to a sculpture anyway?"

"Have I taught you nothing? Remember your middle school art project. You get all your creativity and style from me you know."

"Oh I know. Remember that ugly orange and purple couch Dad got while you were away in South America?"

Maya smiled at the memory. "That thing grew on me." She grabbed an onion and began micing it into fine pieces. "I still have it you know. It's out back in the storeroom."

"I didn't know you kept it."

"I couldn't…" she paused, as if trying to gather courage. "I couldn't part ways with it. You know?"

"I know."

"What about Rick?" Maya asked changing the subject. "Was he a good guide?"

"The man with every job in Porter? He was fine." _Wonderful._

His image flashed in her mind. From his perfect profile in the car to his wide smile and deep laugher to his authoritative stance on Main Street as he spoke to Eugene. "He seems like a really good guy."

"He is," she said. "He's become sort of like the glue that holds Porter together."

It certainly seemed that way.

"And the glue that will hold your sculpture together."

"What? We need all the help we can get," she said. "I'm creating an all star team here."

Although she would never admit it out loud in that moment, she looked forward to seeing more of Rick Grimes in her remaining three days in Porter.

* * *

 **Thanks for the wonderful response to the last chapter. I appreciated all the reviews. Every one of them made my day. I hope you enjoyed the second day in Porter! Let me know what you think.**


	3. Day 3 (Part 1)

**I decided to split the day into two parts. It was getting a little too long. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

 **Day 3 (Part 1)**

Porter, VA - Population: 299

Michonne didn't particularly care for jogging outdoors.

The gym in her upscale contemporary apartment building afforded her with all the exercise she desired and she never had to set foot outside. Unfortunately, after the mammoth meal her mother presented during their dinner for two, she didn't have the luxury of stepping into an elevator to climb onto a treadmill or exercise bike.

It was for that reason she found herself standing on the sidewalk outside her mother's house at six in the morning, stretching her muscles before her run. Thankfully, her joyride with Rick gave her a general idea of the town's layout.

She peeked up at the large house across the street as she lunged back with her right foot, holding her stretch. Now that she was closer, she observed the ivy ferns that grew against the sides of the house, the eerie silence, the waterless stone fountains. Against the early dawn light, the remnants of the merrier times filled with splendour were almost visible.

She smiled thinking of the man behind the walls with his dark curly hair and his mesmerising ocean blue eyes. She wondered if she would see him before he joined her and Maya for dinner that evening and secretly hoped for that possibility.

She turned on her exercise playlist, popping her earbuds in her ear as she turned away from the house.

The balmy air of the early spring morning swept against her skin as she started her run down the sidewalk in the direction of Town Hall. Her steady gait is almost soundless as her feet pushed rhythmically against the pavement. The two houses are soon behind her, replaced with a different variety of Porter's scenery.

She ran past the large white church building that doubled as the Town Hall, toward the road overlooking the valley to Main Street.

She stopped outside the small Post Office, sitting on a sidewalk bench to catch her breath and enjoy the early morning bustle before the return home.

"Hey out-of-towner!"

A smile formed on her lips when she heard the familiar voice. From the periphery of her vision, she saw him approaching from the direction she came from, in a slow jog of his own. Her gaze slid to the side and she offered a smile to the dark-haired mayor, drenched in sweat.

There was something about Rick Grimes, his magnetic smile, his gentleness and earnesty, that drew her to him. Perhaps it was attraction.

"Morning Mayor Grimes," she called teasingly. It was obvious he wasn't much of a runner. He was dressed in a brown t-shirt and a pair of dark navy blue running pants with 'police' written on the side in gold lettering."Enjoying your run?"

Rick stopped in front of her, leaning over to catch his breath. "Yeah," he answered, between his heavy breathing. "I like trying new things. I think I might actually do this more often."

She smiled at the indirect confirmation that he was indeed jogging through the streets of Porter in the early morning because of her.

"You and me both," she said. "This was way more scenic than a treadmill overlooking a concrete jungle."

"I bet it does." He sat down on the bench beside her, a grin on his face. "So, same time tomorrow? I'd love a running partner."

"Well since Maya will most likely cook another meal big enough to feed an army tonight, we're both going to need some exercise."

"Oh, I can't wait to have more of Maya's cooking," he said, leaning back against the bench as he conjured the mental images. "I've been daydreamin' about it since last night when I had to force down some pretty terrible steak."

"I'm hoping for some of her red rice tonight. I know she's going to go all out tonight," she said. "I'm jealous you live next door to all that good homemade food."

He shifted his body toward her, his blue orbs locking with her chocolate browns. "Visit more and there'll be no need for jealousy. I don't mind sharin'."

"We'll see. If this place makes a good impression by the end of the week, maybe I will."

His eyes widened in faux surprise as if she just dropped the bombshell of the century. "We haven't made a good impression yet? As the president and only member of the welcoming committee, I feel like a damn failure. I must not be doin' my job right."

"You're doing fine for now." she leaned her arm against the back of the bench, half-facing him. "I'm just a little hard to please."

"Challenge accepted." His eyes continued burning into her, almost as if he was searching for the depths of her soul. "Wanna grab some morning coffee with me? I'm gonna need it if you're planning on running back to Belcher. It's almost seven, Morgan should be opening soon."

"That run didn't fully wake you up?"

"Oh it did," he said. "And then it drained all my energy. It's a good thing it's my day off."

"Your legs are going to be so sore tomorrow," she laughed.

The pair rose from the bench as Rick lead the way to the only coffee shop in town.

"I'll stop by the house today sometime after one or so, to do my part with the turnips as promised," he said as he held the door open for her.

"I almost forgot about that."

"Morgan! How's it goin' man?"

"Rick. You're here early. You were waitin' for me to open or something? Miss me?" The man emerged from behind the counter, with a warm smile for his first customers of the day. Michonne recognized him as one of the board members from the meeting in Town Hall. "Hello."

"Hi."

"Maya's daughter, right?"

"That's right." New faces certainly didn't escape the notice of the people in Porter. News seemed to travel fast as well.

"Welcome to Porter," he said, reaching out to shake her hand. "First time, right?"

"Yes, and it's about time I visited. I've always been curious about the reclusive little town that my mother is so in love with. I can see it has its charm."

"That it does," he agreed. "What can I get for you two?"

"The usual for me," Rick answered, before turning to Michonne for her response.

Michonne glanced up at the blackboard menu with the drink written in chalk. "Those are some...unique combinations you have there. Turnip coffee?" They had everything from maple bacon coffee to wine inspired iced teas and whiskey brewed coffees. In fact, there were more unique flavors than ones regularly seen at coffee shops.

"Limited edition," he grinned, looking back proudly at the menu. "It's only served during the month of May, in time for the Turnip festival."

"Well, when in Rome," she said with a shrug. "I'll have the Turnip coffee then. I'll save trying the whiskey brew for some other time."

"It has a really...unique taste," said Rick. "You either love it or hate it. No in between."

"I don't know how I feel about that."

"So did Dale really file a complaint yesterday?" Morgan asked as he went back behind the counter to prepare their drink orders.

"A complaint?" His brow furrowed in confusion.

"About Eugene. That's what I heard," he said. "Thinks you're going too easy on him. What with everything that happened with...you know." His eyes flitted to Michonne and it was obvious whatever he was referring to wasn't something he wanted to delve into in front of a stranger.

It was probably something personal. Probably something filled with deep small town secrets.

Rick's expression visibly hardened, his nostrils flaring as he made a sweeping arm gesture. "That's not what I did what I did. There are better ways to deal with things than immediately going the punishment route. He doesn't like it, then he's free to file his damn complaint. Eugene is harmless. Sometimes people can't help the way they are."

Morgan chuckled, shaking his head as he grabbed a cup for Rick's drink. "To be fair, we had four fires for the year so far."

"God help us if there's a fifth," Rick said with humorless laughter. "Old man Horvath will blow a gasket."

"So, how are you enjoying your stay here?" Morgan asked, changing the subject to include Michonne. "You probably haven't seen much. You should go down to the river before you head back. It's beautiful. Especially in the early morning or evening."

"We used to go over there to ditch school when we were younger."

"That's right!" Morgan capped Rick's drink sliding it across the counter. "I would have been a rocket scientist if it wasn't for this guy! Now I serve overpriced coffee to exploring hipsters while he single handedly runs a whole town."

"You're welcome," Rick retorted with a broad grin.

"Now the house special for the lady of the hour." He poured the unique concoction into another cup, serving her with a friendly smile.

"Thank you, Morgan." She took the drink from him. "I actually can't wait to taste this." She brought the cup to her lips taking a dainty sip. She winced as the bitterness of the drink washed over her taste buds.

"You don't like it?" Rick asked.

She wrinkled her nose, pushing her tongue forward with a grimace. "This is pretty —"

"Pretty damn terrible?" Morgan finished for her.

"It's _so_ bitter."

"The real reason it's only served once a year probably," Rick laughed. "It's an acquired taste. I personally don't mind it, but I guess it's not for everyone."

"Well this probably isn't a taste I'm looking to acquire." She gave Morgan an apologetic smile. "Sorry. It's just not to my liking."

"That's absolutely fine." He waved her off. "Half of the people who order it hate it. It's basically Porter's version of pumpkin spice during October. It really is an acquired taste. I'll make you some regular coffee."

 **~...~**

"Have you always lived in Porter?"

Rick spread out the photographs of the church building they would somehow be recreating out of turnips. Maya rushed out of the house, shortly after he arrived that afternoon, exclaiming that she had an almost forgotten errand to run in town.

She remembered feeling a little silly at the giddiness that filled her at the sight of him entering the house with his tousled hair and casual wear. She'd known the man for barely three days.

"Yep. Been here since birth. I was actually born right there in that house across the street."

"Really? So, you probably grew up with most of the people here."

"Yeah," he nodded. "Morgan and I were attached at the hip growing up. He moved here to stay with his grandparents when we were nine and we've been best friends ever since."

"That's actually nice," she mused. "Everyone is like one big happy family. If your family had like three hundred people."

"That's one way to put it."

"So, your whole family still lives here in town?" she asked casually, her curiosity piqued. "Seems like you live alone over there."

"Well technically, it's just me _in_ town. My father moved into a cabin on the trail over the creek a few years ago."

She remembered Maya asking about the man the previous day and the comparison he drew between the man and Eugene. She wondered if he had anything to do with Morgan's cryptic line of questioning in the coffee shop earlier that morning.

"You guys are close?"

"You can say that. Not as close as we used to be, but we get on well and I try to see him often enough."

"Between your fifty-leven jobs," she joked, playfully nudging his arm. She could feel the heaviness when he spoke about his father and could tell it was likely a sensitive subject.

"Yeah," he chuckled. "It's actually a lot easier than it sounds. Things are pretty quiet over here, so it's a perfect place to have multiple jobs. Very little action."

"You and Maya seem close."

"Yeah it's been great having her as a neighbor. I would've never thought I would be participating in the Festival like this again. I usually just go just to be there," he said. "My family used to go all out when I was young. It's refreshing to see."

She picked up a turnip, spinning it around in her hand. If someone told her she would be building a model of an old church out of turnips with her mother's neighbor slash mayor, two days ago, she's have called them crazy. "So, any idea how we're going to do this? I don't even know what the hell a turnip sculpture is supposed to be, but I wouldn't be surprised if this is also part of your skill set."

"Uh not really. Sorry to disappoint you," he said. "Maya said _you_ were the artist. I'm just here to follow orders. I know nothing."

"Well I'm a graphic designer. Hardly any sculpting experience there." She crossed her arms. "Other than what little I've learned from watching my mother that is. And that's not much."

"Okay, so she at least left us some instructions to start off," he said, producing the yellow legal pad with neatly written words. "We just have the follow 'em. Can't possibly be that hard."

"It's going to look like something a group of preschoolers did, isn't it?"

"Where is your confidence?" he laughed. "I mean she _did_ abandon us with her project, but we're probably halfway competent combined."

"You just have to go along with her every whim, it usually pays off in the end." She reached for the knife in the holder. "Let's just chop them in small pieces and stack them like popsicle sticks. Does this even have to be edible? I don't even know the rules of this thing. I'm still trying to make sense of this competition."

"Could be edible, yeah, but I don't think it's actually a criteria. Turnips don't even regularly taste that good anyway. Think of this like butter sculptures at a state fair. Those are _serious_."

"Except it's a root vegetable and a very tough one at that." She moved around the table, leaning in to read the instructions that were still in his hands. Their closeness of their bodies sending tingles on her skin. "So, I guess we can start with the steeple?"

"Sounds easy enough." He grabbed a knife for himself and the pair got seated and started the tedious task of peeling the vegetables.

"So, what about you?" He lifted his eyes to meet hers. "Always lived the city life in Alexandria?"

"Basically," she said, with a shrug. "Not one single city though. We moved around a lot for Dad's work in the early years, but we settled in Alexandria. I still live there now."

"Maya always tells stories about her travels," he said, nodding his head. "She's done amazing things in her life."

"She did. Still does in this place."

"That's what I like to hear! We _are_ making a good impression." He winked at her before looking back at their instruction sheet. "Sounds like we'll be seeing more of you. You and Maya seem close."

"It must look pretty awful that I've never been here to visit her, I know. I don't see her as often as I should. _She's_ the one that always takes the trips out to see me," she blew out a breath. "I think I've been so focused on work and everything else for so long, I've definitely been slacking in other aspects of life." She wasn't sure why she was volunteering all that information, but he was easy to talk too.

"That's just life sometimes," he said, in a somewhat sombre tone, his soft eyes on her. "I know that feeling very well. It's natural to try to fault yourself."

She gazed at him thoughtfully, searching her mind for a response, but not wanting to delve too deep into what she felt were her shortcomings. "Yeah. Let's talk about something lighter." She nudged his ankle with hers. "So about this creek I keep hearing about."

He shook his head, grinning widely. "It's best to look at sunrise or sunset the first time. When the light hits the water it almost looks like it's not even real. It's hard to explain."

She held his gaze quietly. "Detour for our morning run tomorrow?"

"Yeah." He patted his leg, with a playful grin. "Hopefully, I'm in still working order tomorrow. I think I pulled a muscle tryin' to catch up with you this morning."

"You should have stretched," she shrugged.

"No time. You were halfway down the block, by the time I decided to pick up this new hobby. I nearly busted my ass gettin' downstairs."

"Poor thing." She rested her palm under her chin. "I'm glad you didn't though. Then I wouldn't have any company to watch the sunrise by the creek tomorrow. I'd drag Maya out, but she's still recovering and she's not a morning person."

Their eyes remained locked and there was a charged energy in the room. It was as if the world stopped for a moment and they were the only two beings left. The feeling both excited and unnerved Michonne.

"You know, I think I have a perfect stand for this sculpture statue thing. Whatever it's called. It'll make transportin' in a lot easier" he said, standing up suddenly, breaking the spell. "Come on. I'll show you."

She shook her head, attempting to clear the buzzing in her head. "Where? Your place?"

"Uh, yeah."His face reddened shightly just as his phone started chiming angrily in his pocket. He handed her the legal pad, reaching for the noisy device. "Grimes."

He listened quietly, his brow furrowed. "Wait, slow down. Killer bees?" He ran a hand through his dark curls his expression becoming more alarmed by the second. "How is that even…? I thought he was scheduled for yesterday…" he listened as the voice on the other end gave a lengthy explanation. "That's just...Wow. Alright I'll give them a call and I'll be there in five...No I'll come straight there. I can't do anything down there. I'm sure they have it handled."

"What is it?" she asked when he hung up, seeing his clear agitation.

"There was a bee attack," he answered, his tone one of disbelief.

"A _bee_ attack?"

"At Town Hall. Apparently it's a huge swarm and they're aggressive. They said it could be about a million of them."

Michonne simply stared at him, her mouth agape. "Are you being serious?"

"Serious as a dead man walking. It's actually not as crazy as it sounds. Come on." He reached for her hand as he moved to exit the kitchen. "I'll explain on the way."

"Wait a minute. Why exactly are there killer bees attacking at Town hall?" she asked, speed-walking to keep up with him as he approached the front door. She kicked off her house slippers, hopping around as she tried to get her sneakers on. "And what on earth are you supposed to do about a bee attack? Is that another side job? You're a beekeeper too?"

"Of course not. I'm actually terrified of those things in large swarms. We'll just have to call in an exterminator or something. Apparently the bee specialist that was hired to get rid of them got attacked and he's pretty banged up." He opened the front door, before turning back to face her with a serious expression. "I swear, things are not usually this exciting around here."

The bees, Michonne learned, were living within the wall of the old church for years, Rick informed her on once they were in the car. They passed Town Hall without stopping, seeing it covered with yellow police tape. There was an ambulance out front along with people wearing protective clothing and veils. The sidewalks were blocked of in an attempt to keep away roaming pedestrians who could come into contact with the aggressive bees.

"We recently hired this specialist guy to get them out because they were getting pretty bad and we didn't want the swarm growing more and people getting attacked. Especially with the festival coming up," he explained. "Clearly that didn't help. The guy was a little shady anyway."

"You're not going to Town Hall?" she asked pointing behind them as they sped past the building.

He shook his head. "No, Public Safety department. Can't do anything here. Bee wrangling isn't one of the careers I've conquered and I don't plan for it to be one."

Rick Grimes really was the glue that held Porter together. When they entered the public safety department, people orbited around him. He was the type of man everyone loved. A natural born leader with a killer smile.

He was a marvel to watch.

She drifted into the background, strolling around the office space as people made frantic phone calls while shifting through the organized clutter on their desks. From the sound of things, they needed to call in some serious outside help.

She looked out the front glass window at the people bustling about Main street, enjoying their daily lives. Her eyes found Maya across the street as she exited the butcher shop. She glanced up squinted, as she saw the familiar figure looking at her through the long glass windows of the brink building.

Michonne waved and she waved back mouthing 'what are you doing in there?'

'Wait,' she mouthed back, gesturing that she would be out in a minute.

As if sensing her eyes, Rick's rose to hers in the midst of the chaos as soon as she turned around. He offered a small smile, strolling away from his busy desk to meet her by the window.

"Maya." She nodded to the woman across the street who wore an impish grin. "I'm probably going to head back with her to help out with dinner and everything."

"Sorry about that," he said, apologetically as he took a step closer to her.

"It's fine. You're Mr. Jack. It's only natural to get pulled in every direction." She was hyper aware of his close proximity. She wanted nothing more than to move closer. "See you at dinner later?"

"Wouldn't miss it."

They awkwardly shuffled around each other, not knowing whether to walk away or initiate some form of physical contact to express their temporary goodbyes. "Later.

"Later."

"Fancy seeing you here," Maya said, placing her hands on her hips when Michonne exited the station. "You abandoned your post! We have less than forty-eight hours to get this thing done. Luckily, I'm in a forgiving mood."

Maya's eyes shifted back to the window behind Michonne where Rick still stood watching. He gave a half wave, when she caught him staring, stumbling back to his desk.

"I'm sure you are," Michonne said, not bothering to hide her amusement. "You heard about the bee specialist guy, the town hired to get rid of the infestation? He got attacked by a huge swarm of African bees. Thousands of them. I know news travel fast in small towns."

"Oh that's what all that chatter was about," she said, looking back at the butcher store. "I hope he's okay. That's why you and Rick are out here."

"Yeah, he's got his hands in multiple places right now, and it's his day off from public safety. I'm thinking he'll be busy until dinner."

"Hmm." She gave her daughter a once over. "Then it's back to you and me for this competition. It's nice to see you're actually mingling though." They started walking toward her vintage, cherry red car.

"Mom."

"What? I said it once and I'll say it as many times as necessary." She shrugged her shoulders unapologetically. "Anyway, you can continue with our entry while I get started on dinner. And we still have a lot of catching up to do. Wait till you hear about the afternoon _I_ had."

* * *

 **Hope you're still enjoying this! Thanks for reading!**


	4. Day 3 (Part 2)

**Day 3 (Part 2)**

Porter, VA - Population: 299

The two women spent most of the short ride in Maya's speeding car laughing about the five dollar parking ticket they found on the windshield and her fascinating afternoon encounter.

"So, I attended a makeshift funeral earlier this afternoon," Maya said, slipping her sunglasses back on as they turned onto Belcher street. "And honey it was a beautiful mess."

Michonne's mouth fell open as she took in her attire which consisted of a bright red blouse with loose casual jeans with an incredulous glance. "You went dressed like that? I thought you were just going to the store."

"Well, I _was_ on the way to the butcher's, but then I met Daryl at the coffee shop along the way and ended up going to a funeral for his dead pet. It was a possum. He's so persuasive without even knowing it."

Michonne was nearly beyond the point of being surprised by anything anyone in Porter told her anymore, including her mother. She didn't bother with the whys. She pressed her lips together, fighting back laughter as she responded. "Oh...wow. How'd it die?"

Maya snorted rolling her eyes. "Horvath accidentally ran the poor thing over yesterday. He lives across the street from Daryl and the poor animal somehow got in his yard. I would have been home earlier to help you and Rick, but I felt so bad for Daryl. He loved that little guy."

"That sounds terrible." Her brow furrowed as she recognized the familiar name from earlier that morning. "Wait a minute. What's up with this Horvath guy? I've been hearing that name around. Sounds like trouble."

"Oh Dale's just a harmless grump slash town gossiper," Maya said, waving it off as she parked in front of the driveway. "He has something to say about everything and seems to know everybody's damn business. It was a nice get together though. Weird, but nice."

The remainder of the afternoon progressed rapidly once they arrived home. Michonne, not quite as skilled as Maya would have liked, was assigned to chop vegetables and prep the meat before getting shooed out of the kitchen to work on the "sculpture".

Maya insisted on having dinner in the large dining room she never had the opportunity to use. Michonne thought it was a little much, but she helped Maya set up the tablecloth, silverware and the tall silver candelabras on the mahogany table meant to sit six.

"It smells so good in here," Michonne commented once she reentered the kitchen and the rich aroma of her mother's cooking wafted over her, beckoning her closer.

"Always. Plus, I'm making your favorite," Maya sang twirling her wooden spoon as if it were a magic wand.

"You said that last night." Michonne strolled over, peering into the bubbling pot. "Unless you just assume everything you make is my favorite. You won't be wrong though."

"Yep. I know my daughter." She covered the pot, turning to her daughter with a grin. "It's Rick's favorite too, so it all works out." She pointed back to the pot. "This is basically done. I'm just gonna let it simmer and head upstairs to change."

Michonne glanced around the kitchen feeling a little too idle. "Well I'll be down here. You need me to do anything here?"

"Yes," she said, emphatically. "Sit down, relax, and don't touch anything, okay?"

She held up her hands in surrender. "Don't touch anything. That I can do."

Michonne sighed looking at the house that surrounded her. It was so unlike her childhood home. She smiled glancing at the framed candid photograph in the entryway of her and Maya at her college graduation. Her father had taken it.

The photograph was a time machine. She was suddenly back to that damp spring day, with her father calling her name in attempt to get the two women to focus on the camera. Michonne, distracted by her mother's giddiness, had her attention focused elsewhere as Maya chatted animatedly with her hands. They embodied happiness and pride.

The picture stood out, raw and real, from all the others he took that day. The two most important people in her father's life immortalized in their natural fun relaxed state. This was Michonne and Maya as he saw them.

Deciding to follow Maya's orders, Michonne grabbed her phone and went out to the wooden porch swing where she settled down to enjoy the setting sun. She shut her eyes and drew in a deep breath as she enjoyed the quaint tranquility surrounding her.

Out of habit, she checked her cell phone, noticing an alert for a missed call from Andrea. As if her friend knew her gaze was on the screen, the phone let out a shrill noise as it buzzed in her hand.

"Hello my love!"

"So, you're still alive. Nice to hear from you too. I've been trying to call you since Tuesday. What happened? I was about to send out a damn search party." Her long-time friend, Andrea, was never one to mince words.

"My phone service is really crappy out here. I'm going back and forth with one or two bars right now," she said, rising to her feet and stepping off the porch and onto the stone path in the middle of her mother's garden. "I tried to text you when I got here. "

"Yeah, I saw," Andrea responded with a sigh. "How's your mother doing by the way?"

Michonne glanced back as if said woman was within sight behind her. "She's doing alright actually. I might have just missed the worst of it, but she's the same 'ol spunky Maya. You'd never tell she took a fall."

"Well that's a good thing. Tell her I said hey."

"Yeah." She could tell there was more that Andrea had called to say. "So, Shane and I called things off again. I don't know. Things have been crazy and honestly it's probably for the best."

"Oh Andrea, I'm so sorry." She listened attentively as her friend recounted her catastrophic overseas vacation with her long time boyfriend. The trip commenced with expectations of a grand Parisian proposal and concluded with a shouting match in a hotel lobby followed by a security escort from the premises. Andrea was almost certain the encounter had gone viral by now.

"But anyway, enough about me. Fall for any hot small town men yet?"

She had all but sworn off futile dating months before after ending things with the guy she was seeing. It became apparent that he was more on a quest to find himself rather than focus on an actual relationship and they decided their separate ways, promising to remain friends.

Her mind drifted back to Rick. She didn't know him that well, but there was something there that left her wanting to know more. The ease of conversation, his warm smile and apparent caring nature was a plus in her book. In fact, the way he so easily got along with and charmed her mother was an added bonus.

"Please. I'm not really looking for that sort of thing right now. Relationships are way too hard."

Andrea paused for a while before finally responding in an amused tone. "You did, didn't you? I hear that defensiveness in your voice. Who is he?"

"I'm sure you are," she laughed. "Anyway, I have to go. Maya and I are having dinner with a friend tonight."

"Alright, but I'm waiting to hear everything when you get back."

"Sunday lunch at Clyde's?"

"Twelve thirty sharp. Take a picture of him to show me!"

"Bye Andrea," Michonne said, rolling her eyes as she laughed. They said their goodbyes once again.

As she hung up the phone she heard soft footsteps approaching on the path behind her. She didn't have to turn around to know it was him.

"Hey stranger."

She turned around, looking up straight into his clear blue eyes. "You're here." She wished she would have thought of something better to say in greeting.

"Yeah. Finally. It's been a long day."

"You look tired," she said, taking a step closer to examine him in the low light.

"I am. Just a little."

Andreas words were at the back of her mind. She took a deep, shaky breath in an attempt to calm herself down. _No, I'm definitely not looking for that._ "How'd that whole killer bee situation go?"

He shrugged, rubbing his index finger against his forehead. "Well the guy didn't die, so that's a big positive. The day wasn't completely disastrous."

She grinned. "Ever the optimist."

"Yeah well maybe spending time with you was a good influence on my day." He was much closer to her now, and she stared into his eyes, feeling the tangible electricity between them. Their bodies are almost touching. It would take less than two steps.

The front door swung open behind them making them both jump at the sound. "You know, I'm thinking we should have dinner on the back patio instead." Maya stood on the porch with a flowing shawl over her shoulders, staring down at the pair with a knowing smile.

"That's a actually great idea," Michonne said dryly. "Not that I've suggested it twenty times or anything."

Maya put her hands on her hips, raising a brow with a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. "Just come help me with the food."

 **~FDP~**

"Why on earth did you even think that was a good idea!"

"You don't understand," Maya said, putting down her wine to properly explain the details of how she got her injury. "That kid was a little asshole and I was a rollerblading and a Double Dutch champ when I was a lot younger. That's before your time honey. Well I thought I still had it in me and I did, until I was airborne during the last round. It was worth it though. I regret nothing."

Rick doubled over in laughter at Maya's unapologetic tone. "He was a little asshole though," he told Michonne.

"See? At least Rick understands. I couldn't just let that old lady comment slide."

Michonne shook her head, her mouth turning upwards in a smile. "You're still the same you."

Maya picked up her glass again. "Honey, I'm too old to change. I'm gonna be set in these ways forever."

"Well, no more sidewalk rollerblading challenges okay? For me."

"I may not be changing, but I'm still capable of learning."

"This is so good by the way." Rick moaned as he brought his fork up to his lips for another bite of food. "I don't know how you do it Maya."

"So glad you like it," she smiled. "I can show you how to make it sometime. I'm a piss poor teacher, but I'll try."

They continued eating their meal with conversation quickly flowing with ease. Michonne and Rick were seated side by side with Maya directly across from them. Each time Rick's eyes met Michonne's or their arms or fingers brushed briefly against the other she felt light flutters in her stomach. Her body felt like a live wire and from his expression, he seemed to know exactly what he was doing.

The attraction was definitely mutual.

When they were finally filled to contentment with food and laughter Maya rose to clear the table. "Oh, I can do that Maya," Rick said, standing to help gather the plates. He shooed her into the house, insisting that he would handle the cleanup and Michonne stayed back to help.

"Well, I'm bushed," Maya said. "I think I'll turn in for the night."

"Already?" Michonne asked incredulously. Her mother had always been a night owl and a late riser. And based on the previous two nights, that hadn't changed since her arrival to Porter.

"I'm an old lady. I go to bed early," Maya lied, stretching her arms above her head. "Plus cooking so much food is exhausting. See you two tomorrow. You'll lock up, won't you baby?"

Michonne eyed her mother suspiciously. "Yeah, Goodnight."

"Night Maya."

Michonne never imagined such palpable sexual tension between two people clearing a table and cleaning dishes was possible. She became so occupied in her own mind, attempting to fully concentrate on her task and not how his presence made her feel that she didn't hear the words he started to speak to her.

"Um...Sorry. What was that?"

"You gonna teach me those stretching exercises tomorrow?"

It took her a beat or two to connect the dots and correctly interpret the question he was posing. "Well I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself again," she retorted.

"That was nothing," he said. "Just know, you're going to be running a lot slower than you're used to tomorrow. I'm definitely going to keep you back. I'll be upfront about that."

She nudged him playfully as she passed him to enter the back door leading to the kitchen. "Oh I know it's going to beginners pace tomorrow. Fully prepared for it."

"Hey, I'm the comedian around here."

The finished quickly in the kitchen, working effortlessly around each other with the conversation, littered with smiles and unspoken attraction, flowing freely. Once they were finished, it was clear neither one wanted the ease of communication to end.

"This...this was nice. I had a great time with you and Maya tonight."

His proximity was static, an electrifying crackling in the air. "Me too." She didn't know what to do with her hands all of a sudden. For what felt like minutes, but was truly a half second, they stood in silence captivated in each other's stare.

"I should probably head out," he finally said, his eyes never leaving hers.

"I'll...uh walk you out. I was just going to sit out there anyway," she said. "You can stay a while if you want."

"I was just going home to an empty house so don't mind if I do."

She led the way out of the kitchen and to the front porch. She listened to the beat of his soft footsteps behind her in perfect synchrony with hers.

"It's so quiet out here," she said, wrapping her arms around her body, as she sat down on the swing. "Does it ever feel strange or are you too used to it."

"Definitely too used to it."

"It's nice though. I hear it's a great stress reliever. Perfect place to get away from the whole corporate setting and just get a clear mind." She was both looking forward to and dreading the pile of upcoming high profile project she and her creative team would undertake once she returned. She was in for a busy few months.

"You must get really busy."

"Not quite like you though," she said, closing her eyes and tipping her head back. "It usually consists of me being confined to my desk in my office building or home office until everything in flawless."

"So you're probably a perfectionist."

"What makes you think that?"

"My clients are the ones that are perfectionists. I just make sure me and my team give them exactly what they want and exceed their expectations in the process."

He listened intently as she spoke, the corners of his mouth turned up. "That's amazing. I'd love to see what you can do."

"If Porter is ever in any need of promotional material..."

"You're the lady for the job," he finished for her. "I never apologized by the way."

"For what?"

"Abandoning our project today," he grinned over at her. "I'm serious about this partnership. I'm starting to fear that Anette might actually win again this year."

"Well depending on how you perform tomorrow, I might forgive you," she said. "Otherwise crushing my mother's dreams will be all on you."

"Me?" He pointed to himself. She could see his smile in the moonlight. "I'm not the award-winning graphic designer. Lower expectations for this guy."

"You said your family used to go all out for this turnip thing. What was that like?"

He chuckled, leaning his head back against the wooden slats of the swing. "That was forever ago. When my brother and I were kids, my mother took that stuff seriously. We used to have these matching family costumes and we'd take part in literally every activity in the festival. Seeing her excitement just takes me back, you know."

"Yeah." The swing moved slowly back and forth. "You have a brother?"

"He lives out of state now," he said. "Never moved back after college. He keeps in touch now and then."

They were silent, rocking steadily on the wooden swing. Their hands were close between them on the bench. If she moved her hand, even slightly, they would be touching. Her fingers moved slightly, brushing against the tips of his and he moved his hand closer, taking hers in his.

Her breath hitched at his touch and a small smile formed on her lips and she turned to look at him. She swallowed, inching closer as she gazed at him, losing herself in his bright eyes. He held her gaze and it consumed her.

One second they were simply holding hands, captivated by the effect they had on each other, then the next their lips joined as if it was the most natural thing in the world. A euphoric frenzy rushed through her as she closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling his soft lips as his mouth moved against hers.

"Wow," he sighed when they finally broke apart. His eyes glimmered like gems in the dim light.

 _Wow, it was._

* * *

 **Sorry for such a long delay in getting this out. I've been moving and super busy and now I've finally had a chance to sit down and finish this chapter. Hope you enjoyed it! Around three more chapters to go.**


	5. Day 4 (Part 1)

**Day 4 (Part 1)**

Porter, VA - Population: 299

* * *

Sleep did not come easily to Michonne and when it did, she dreamt of him. She only remembered the details in pieces, but the emotions she felt was palpable. In the dream, she stood in a field of flowers which surrounding a vast calm lake. The sky was clear and blue and there were birds chirping.

He was there, of course. She remembered his smile and how his closeness made her feel. He had taken her face in his hands, making her pulse quicken when his honeyed mouth was against hers.

She woke just as they settled in the field of flowers, skin pressing against skin. It was what could have happened on Maya's porch had she not pulled away abruptly after the second kiss.

There was a fight between two opposing sides within her. One that fought to guard her heart from further heartbreak and the other that just wanted to give in to what was clearly and rapidly forming between them.

The former side won.

"It's pretty late." She cleared her throat nervously as she slid away from him. She adjusted her blouse, fixed a stray loc, and then suddenly found the wooden armrest more interesting than any further conversation or physical interaction. "I want to be up early tomorrow and it's been a long day."

Ever a lighthearted man, he had joked about not wanting her standing him up in the morning and they bid each other goodnight.

She dressed quickly the following morning, wondering what surprises her fourth day in Porter would hold. Her stomach fluttered with giddiness. She hoped she didn't create any unnecessary awkwardness between them. She paused on her way out to check her reflection in the mirror; something she had never found the need to do before a run.

Rick was already waiting when she left the house. He waved.

"Morning neighbor!"

"Morning." A smile formed on her lips and she fought to maintain her cool calm exterior. "So, you're an early bird, huh?"

He took two long strides, closing the space between them. "When I need to be." He was so close, she was itching to touch him but she feared that if they touched again, she'd see the inside of his house and there'd be no running. "So, stretching?"

' _Focus Michonne. You're not looking for that sort of thing.'_

She wasn't sure that she was prepared for the outcomes of that sort of thing. Still, she couldn't stop thinking about his arms around her, his hands on the bare skin on her back, the sounds they made under the moonlight.

It was clear, there was something going on between them now. Still, she didn't immediately bring up the night before and to her surprise, he didn't either.

Their interactions were even more sexually charged, but with the added tension and frustration of knowing.

She could feel his eyes on her as if they were gently caressing her skin as she bent her knee, shifting her weight to her opposite foot. He mimicked her movements, his face twisted in concentration. He asked a lot of questions about what they were doing and she happily informed him of the physical benefits.

Being somewhat of a beginner, he was slower than her so she opted for a pace that matched his. The didn't speak as they left Belcher Street. When they approached the road overlooking the valley, he stopped her.

"You know I almost forgot about that," she said, laughing.

"Far away this morning?" His shoulder brushed against hers as he strolled past her toward a grassy path off the main road. "Watch your step." He climbed down the rocky nature-made embankment then turned and held out a hand for her.

He helped her down, allowing her to walk ahead of him. "This way." She cast sideways glances at him as they walked, taking in his smooth profile. She wanted to run her fingers along his jawline or her hands through his dark curls.

He caught her gaze and they shared a smile as they emerged through the clearing. "Well, this is it."

The entirety of the landscape glimmered in a yellow-orange glow under the rising sun. The light shone through canopied trees, the hills stood like crowns, and the water was still and clear. "It's beautiful."

"It is. Absolutely beautiful," he said, but he wasn't looking at the picturesque body of water ahead of them. His eyes drifted over her face and lingered on her lips making her breath catch in anticipation.

"Do people ever swim out here?"

"What?"

"In the creek." She pointed to the water as she took a step closer. Not paying attention to where she was placing her feet, she slipped, and his hand quickly shot out to steady her. She was hyper aware of his solid form behind her, his hand resting lightly on her arms. His breath was hot against her skin and she heard a low groan escape his lips.

She whirled around to face him, her arms, locking behind his head and his around her waist. She was in a dream-like haze and for a moment she doubted if she ever left her bed that morning.

There was want in his eyes and his exploring hands which found their way under the hem of the loose tank top. They were in sync, in their own circle of euphoric frenzy.

He pushed her backward against a tree, attacking the space between her neck and shoulder with sensual kisses until their lips reconnected again. The intensity between them both scared and thrilled her.

When they finally parted breathlessly, he said, "I was wondering when you were going to want to do that again. I guess it's a lot more intimate than the middle of Belcher Street."

She grinned at him. "Well our minds are definitely on the same wavelength, then."

"So, we're finally going to talk about this thing that's happening between us?"

Movement behind him caught her eye, cutting off the witty response she was planning to give. "Look. What is that? Is it…?"

He turned, seeing the smoke in the distance. Not quite the billowing opaque kind, but more of a wispy residual smoke that appeared like ghosts in the wind. "What on earth…?"

"Someone just put out a pretty big fire?"

He nodded, his jaw tightening as he unpinned her from the tree bark. "I have a good idea who it might be. My father's cabin is over that hill."

"Oh." She nodded in understanding as his hands slipped out from under her shirt and he took her hand in his. She couldn't quite decipher the expression on his face. "We should probably check on him then."

"I'm sure he's okay, but it's probably best I do check. I never really know with him. It's not his fault, but not everybody understands."

"What happened?"

He let go of her hand, stepping a little ahead of her. "Well, we lost my mother." He picked up a stone and tossed it across the water. "And then he lost his mind. At least, that's what some people around here like to say. ' _Did you hear what happened to Richard? He's a hermit now!'_ "

"I'm sorry."

He stared across the water, not immediately responding to her words. "You know, when I was a young dumb kid, I used to dream about getting out of this place and not coming back. I did, for college, and then I came right back. My brother and I are different in that way. Out there I was missing something I can probably only get here."

They started walking again. Hand in hand and this time, at a faster pace. Rick didn't seem to worried about the smoke, so Michonne tried not to conjure up any bleak images in her mind. She thought about his words instead.

 _This thing that's happening between us._

What exactly was that thing? Was she okay with it happening? She's only known Rick Grimes for four days and the connection she felt with him frightened her to her core.

They drew closer to the smoke and beyond the trees, she spotted a log cabin where she assumed the town's second pyromaniac resided. "That it?"

"Yeah." The residual smoke hanging in the air burned her eyes. Walking through the trees was like walking through a fog.

"Dad?" He bounded through the trees and Michonne followed. There was nobody in their immediate sight around the cabin. "Dad!"

The front door of the cabin burst open with a bang and on the other side of the door stood a man well over six feet. His dark hair stood wildly on his head and he wore a checkered knee length robe, striped pajama bottoms, rubber boots and a gas mask.

He waved at his son before lifting his hands behind his head to remove the mask. "Morning! You're out early today, junior."

"What the hell? I saw the smoke and —"

"Did you really?" His eyes widened. "From Belcher street?"

"No, not from our house. From the creek down the hill."

"Why on earth were you at the creek so early in the morning? It's barely…" He trailed off, seemingly noticing Michonne for the first time. "Oh we have company. Hello there!"

"Hi."

Rick reached back, taking her hand and pulling her forward to stand next to him. "Dad, this is Michonne. Michonne this is my father, Richard Grimes."

Richard's eyes lit up as they darted between the pair and their joined hands. "Michonne," he repeated, stroking his shaggy gray beard. "I didn't know we had anyone new in town, son. So I take it the population is three-hundred now?"

"Michonne's just visiting Dad," Rick said. "She's Maya's daughter. Our neighbor. Remember her?"

She noticed he kept saying our even though his father no longer resided in the large house across the street from Maya's. It was evident he had made what was probably a permanent home for himself in the woods.

"Well it's nice to meet you, Michonne. Welcome to Porter," the man said with a kind smile that looked very much like his son's. "I'm awfully sorry, but it's far too early in the morning to entertain guests. Perhaps the two of you can return at a more reasonable time? I have a lot to do and I'm trying to make use of the early daylight."

"Hold on a second there." Rick held up a hand. "What's with all the smoke?"

His brow furrowed in confusion. "Smoke?"

"Smoke." Rick gestured at the hazy air around them. "What's going on here?"

"A small explosion and a completely manageable fire this morning,'" he shrugged, rubbing his forehead. "I need to get a new welder," he muttered absently. "I'm creating something here, son. It could...it could change things. Listen, what I have in mind is…" he trailed off, looking somewhere above them.

"Dad we've talked about this. You can't just...You need to be careful or I'll be forced to give you a citation and confiscate whatever is in that shed out back."

He wore a far-away expression and didn't seem to hear anything his son was saying. "I guess I could entertain guest for a little while." His eyes rose to the sky and the sun that had risen and he stepped back, waving them inside. "Come in, come in."

Michonne looked to Rick, who sighed, smiling patiently at his father as he gestured for Michonne to enter the house first.

"Coffee?"

"Yeah, we'll have some," Rick answered.

The cabin had appeared much smaller on the outside than it actually was. The decor was a combination of multiple tones and patterns that were seemingly random. They led her into the living room with it's mismatched couches and various half-finished contraptions. As she sat down on the couch, Richard lit a kerosene lamp to illuminate the dimly lit room instead of opening one of the three surrounding windows.

She glanced at a large wheel-like device leaning against the wall across from her. It was made of some kind of glass and metal and there were colorful wires sprouting up from the top.

"I'll get the pan on the stove," Richard said, shuffling out of the room.

"Just know, I don't bring just any woman home to meet my dad." He shot her a grin, wiggling his eyebrows as he plopped down next to her.

She lightly hit his arm. "You're a real flirt, aren't you?"

He winked. "Only with people I like."

"Your father's seems really nice. You have his smile."

"He's pretty funny too. And smart. He's the most brilliant person I know."

"So, are we going to find out about all that smoke or…" She spoke in a low voice aware of the man in the other room.

He shrugged. "I already know what it is."

"What is it?"

"It's this thing he's building out back in the forest. I mean, I don't know exactly what _it_ is, but I know of its existence. He won't let me see it though."

"Any guesses?"

"No idea. Whatever it is, I hope it's fireproof."

"If only you could make the whole town fireproof."

"If only," he snorted. "With Eugene and my father, Public Safety has their hands full. More Eugene than him though. Dad has only started a fire once or twice before."

'I'll be ready in a bit," Richard announced as he re-entered the room. "Is there something happening down at the creek today?'

"Not that I know off."

Richard's eyes were on Michonne again, a slow smile building on his face. "You look just like Maya. Definitely her daughter. How long are you here for?"

"I'm only here for five days. I leave tomorrow."

"Only five days! That's far too short a time to experience a new place." His gray-blue eyes focused somewhere above her head. "As for me, I've seen all there is to see here. Something else is calling me and pretty soon they'll see. She's a beauty beyond imagination."

"We should probably check on the coffee."

He snapped his fingers. "Oh, yes! I almost forgot what we were doing here on this social call. Why _were_ you out here so early again? The sun only just came up."

"Rick and I were jogging," Michonne answered for him. "He's trying to get into better shape. Right Rick?"

"See what I gotta deal with?"" He chuckled as he pointed his thumb in her direction, prompting his father to join in on the laughter. "As the upholder of the laws in this town, I'm in excellent shape." He stood with his hands akimbo, attempting to give her a stern look before his amusement gave him away. "I'm gonna get that coffee, okay? You two stay put and don't bad talk me."

"Thank you son." Once Rick was out of earshot, Richard spoke again. "You know, I'm glad he'll have someone around that makes him happy."

Her mouth fell open. "Oh...we're not…"

"You know, I fell in love here," he continued, unbothered by her flusteredness. "It was the kind of love that you know almost immediately. Once you have it, it's impossible to let go. I'm sure you'll realize that soon enough. Hopefully it'll be before I leave."

Michonne stared at the enigmatic man, perplexed. He seemed to be speaking in riddles and she wasn't quite ready to accept what a small part of her suspected he was getting at.

' _First Maya, now him.'_

"Alright, I hope I got this right." Rick was carrying a tray with three mugs. "This is a hell of a lot better than that Turnip coffee from yesterday. I promise that much."

She giggled, reaching out for the mug he was handing her. "Wow," she said after taking a sip. "You remembered how I take it."

"Well it was literally just yesterday morning."

' _What is this man doing to me? He's like a hypnotist'_ she thought as she beamed at him as she had no care in the world.

Outside of his general quirkiness, Rick's father was a charming man with an incredible sense of humor like his son. They never did find out any more details about the 'small explosion', but when Richard learned of their participation in the festival, they were treated to stories of the years gone by. And he was a remarkable storyteller.

When he started an anecdote, there was no telling where the story would end up.

She liked Richard Grimes, his gentle smile, and soothing voice very much.

"That all sounds so amazing."

"I can show you," Rick offered. "We have a lot of memorabilia over at my place. We can head there now and you can take some back to your mother. I don't really need them and she'd get a kick out of it."

Richard stared at his bare wrist before realizing that he didn't wear a watch and his eyes drifted to the antique grandfather clock across the room instead. "It is getting rather late." He stood up to kick out his guests in the most polite possible way. "I've enjoyed your company, but I have a lot of things to attend to around there, so I'll need to call an end to this social call."

"It was nice meeting you Mr. Grimes."

"Oh please, none of that formal stuff," he waved it off as he shook her hand animatedly. "You can call me Richard for now. And it was wonderful to finally meet you."

 _Finally?_

Richard walked them to the door where Michonne took notice of his seven deadbolts, none of which were locked.

He threw the door open, ushering them out. "Come back and visit anytime after eight fifteen in the morning and four o'clock at night! Those are my free hours."

Rick took her hand again, much to her surprise, waving his father a last time as they began their trek back down the hill. "Later Dad."

She leaned into Rick , poking his forearm with the index finger of her opposite hand. "So...your place?"

* * *

 **This is a shorter chapter because I've decided to do another two part chapter. The next chapter will continue the rest of day four and the interesting things that happen at Rick's house. Will this sculpture ever get finished?**


	6. Day 4 (Part 2)

**Day 4 (Part 2)**

Porter, VA - Population: 299

* * *

"Well this is it," Rick called as Michonne walked up the driveway toward the house. She went home to shower and change after their run, fully expecting him to be waiting with the box of things when she returned.

Instead he was waiting outside near his truck. "I hope you're not afraid of spiders, because we're gonna have to maneuver our way through a few webs to to get to this stuff."

She stopped in her tracks. "You're joking."

"Just a little." He turned toward the house and she followed closely behind.

The main hallway of the house was lined with pictures of Rick and his brother growing up with his parents. She smiled as she walked past Rick through the years. Among them were toddler Rick on Main Street, teenaged Rick and his family posing with a blue ribbon at a fair, Rick and his brother dressed for a dance and Rick on graduation day.

"You look a lot like your Mom too," she noted. He was a perfect blend of both his parents. "She's really pretty."

"Yeah. People could never decide which one I looked more like."

"Both equally," she told him. "Is that your brother?" she asked, pointing to the photograph of Rick with a young man in a black graduation gown.

"Yeah that's Jeffrey." He pointed to a picture of them with various trophies and prizes. "We won big that year. We used to think it was a little silly, but our mother loved the hell out of it."

He turned away from the pictures and led her into an immaculate well decorated living room. "My mom had a great eye for interior design," he explained. "I don't, so I didn't bother changing too much."

"It's pretty nice."

"I never thought I'd move back in here," he said looking the place over. "At least, not this soon. I have a house a few streets over, but I ended up coming back here. My father went soul searching and my brother left. It was just me and our childhood home so I figured, why not. It's amazing how differently people deal with loss."

She glanced at him with a small smile, understanding exactly what he meant. It was something she experienced herself, with how different she and Maya processed things.

"Yeah, after my Dad died, my mother immediately wanted a fresh start. I always told her she was like a free bird and the world as her open sky. Porter suits her well as a place to settle down. It's so far removed from what she's ever had before. For me too."

"That's true. In more ways than I can probably imagine."

She went to the center of the room, taking in it's neatness. "This is a really big place for one person, though."

He shrugged. "I don't mind it. I'm gone most of the day anyway. And I'm sure when the time is right, it will fill up." He pointed to the stairs with his thumb. "The stuff is in the attic."

She had almost forgotten her reason for being in his house. "You know, four days ago, I would have been convinced you were an axe murderer trying to lure me to your attic to kill me," she laughed. "That's growth I guess. Lead the way, cowboy."

As they ascended the stairs, she tried to picture the house as it would have probably been in Rick's youth. The pounding feet of two boys, large and intricate crafts filling the living area, and laughter bouncing off the walls.

There were wooden panels along the corridors on each landing, polished side tables, and antique vases. When they arrived at the top floor, they walked down the long corridor, stopping at the wooden spiral steps at the end of the hallway that led to the attic.

"I'm actually really interested to see what's up here," she said, and in her excitement to do just that, she started to climb the steps ahead of him. When she began the ascent, she was suddenly hyper aware of Rick directly behind her, probably getting an unintentional flashing. She didn't know what possessed her to wear a skirt.

Once at the top of the stairs, she pushed the small wooden door open and climbed into the small space. It was a good thing she wasn't claustrophobic.

The small, dimly lit room on the top floor of the house seemed to hold timeless secrets. Rick flipped on the light with the pull of a string. He stepped past her and dragged the royal blue drapes aside, releasing a cloud of dust. "I'll open the windows."

Michonne stepped further into the room, running her hand against the head of a bronze wrought iron bed. Labeled boxes were stacked against the wall on the far side of the room, a mahogany armoire and matching desk, and a painting of a hilly landscape on the wall.

"We used to keep my great-grandmother locked up here," he said with a heavy sigh.

Michonne's eyes widened, her mouth audibly snapping open. "Seriously?"

He chuckled, cranking the window facing Maya's house open. "No, not really. I'm just messing with you. It's a just regular attic bedroom. We just never really used it much."

"That's not funny," she hit his hand, joining in on his laughter. "When I was a child, I always read all kinds of stories that included attics and they always had some kind of weird creepy secret. I can have a little bit of an overactive imagination when it comes to this stuff, so stop trying to freak me out."

"Well you already seemed a little creeped out, so I thought I'd lighten the mood," he said, still amused that she still fell for his little jokes.

"By trying to creep me out more?" she asked sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

"It's something my Dad used to tell us when we were younger. He always had stories about the origins of the town and how turnips saved the first inhabitants. It involved everything from time travel to destructive, almost apocalyptic, fires."

"Wow."

"Yeah it's too bad most of those stories, never happened. I sure as hell believed them when I was a kid because he sounded so convincing. I always thought he should have put them in a children's book or something. He'd be this century's C.S. Lewis or something."

"Well if he doesn't, you can on his behalf," she said, leaning against the desk. She felt his eyes on her like a physical touch.

Her gaze met his as he studied her instead of looking for what they came for. She looked away, observing the hidden memories in the room. A thick hard covered book lay open behind her on the desk with neat handwriting on every lineless page. She flipped through, seeing that it was some kind of journal with writings about Porter.

There were at least five similar books on the desk, leaning against the wall along with a quill pen and an inkwell with dried up clumpy ink.

Next to the open book was a stack of Polaroids featuring various parts of town. None of the subjects were people except for one which featured the back of a woman's head as she looked over what appeared to be the creek.

Rick said they never used the room much, but from the look of things, someone must have used it for writing at some point in the past.

"Your Dad was into photography?"

"Uh no," he said, said glancing over her shoulder to see what caught her attention. "I actually took those."

"Oh? Is that a fact, Jack?" She asked using the nickname that described his penchant for being able to do it all.

"It was just something I picked up as a passing hobby one year when my Mom bought me one of those vintage cameras. It wasn't something I really stuck with for long."

"Shame," she said. "These are pretty good." She held up the picture of the creek for him to see.

She strolled over to the window that overlooked the backyard, to see one similar to Maya's except they had a wooden swing set. The true beauty of the house was in the back and interior.

She could hear him dragging one of the boxes across the room. The small bed creaked as he sat down on the edge with the box labeled "Turnip Fest" at his feet.

Their eyes met then and she moved to join him. She silently sat down next to him, tucking her legs under herself, so she could face him. Her mind was on their moment in the woods before she saw the smoke.

Since the previous night, there had been an internal battle within her. As if there were too Michonnes within her and both wanted the same and different things at the same time. They certainly had different ideas about what was rapidly building between her and Rick.

"Michonne." His husky voice brought her back to the present.

"Yeah?" She glanced at his mouth, wanting to feel it against her skin again. He made her feel what she'd never felt before and it shook her to her core.

 _What are we doing here?_

As if their minds were on the same wavelength, his eyes darkened and dropped to her lips. Without overthinking it —especially with how heated things got in the woods— she leaned forward and brushed her lips against his.

She knew exactly what she wanted.

His lips turned up into a smile before he leaned in, capturing her mouth in a deep, soul-crushing kiss that stole her breath and consumed her. His arm wrapped tightly around her waist, sliding her across the bed until his body hovering over hers.

His eyes were wide and blazing as he reached behind his neck to pull off his own shirt before finding her lips again. She tugged at the dark curly hair at the back of his head as his mouth traveled down her neck leaving toe-curling kisses behind. His entire body now rested between her open legs and her flowing skirt — which was now more at her waist than at her thighs— left nothing to the imagination.

She felt him pressing against her exposed thigh. "You okay?" he asked.

 _More than okay._

She nodded and his hands slipped under her shirt, slowly caressing her. Her hand left his hair, moving down across his tick shoulder and strong arms and she pushed him back. It briefly startled him and he looked on confused as she sat up and raised her arms over her head with an arched brow. He got the hint and lifted her blouse over her head, tossing it off the bed.

His fingers slowly traced across her flat stomach, revealing her ticklishness as they moved to her back and deftly unclasped her bra. Her breasts bounced freely out of the confines of the cups and the dark, lacy garment fell to the floor and his lips replaced them.

His lips felt like a searing fire against her skin. She moaned as the kisses —and his tongue— moved lower, down her stomach, around her navel and to her smooth dark brown thighs. He slipped his fingers in the elastic waistband of her skirt, slipping both the colorful garment and her underwear down as his lips moved across her hip bone an toward her inner thigh.

She threw her head back, barely able to form a coherent thought as he continued to explore her with his lips, his fingers...his tongue. Her hips arched off the bed as his name breathlessly escaped her parted lips, her fingers tugging at his hair almost painfully. He didn't seem to mind, though. He just continued slowly driving her to the peak of pure ecstasy.

The sound that finally got out of her was half scream, half moan. The pleasure she at her core left her ears ringing her body shaking as she saw stars and her bones turned to jelly.

"Oh my…" she gasped, attempting to catch her breath as he moved to fully rid himself of the rest of his clothing. She's never look at his mouth the same again.

They were in a frenzied state. Her arms locked around him as he gripped behind her knee and grinding his length against her, until he finally pushed in. Every push and pull and thrust left her in a blissful state and it felt as if she was feeling every inch of him. He wasn't gentle, but she didn't mind. She lifted her hips to meet his each time he entered her. The physical pleasure was almost incomprehensible.

The little wrought iron bed let out loud and high-pitched creaks. A slow, steady rhythm at first which then built to a speed and force that sounded like the bed was threatening to break apart and collapse into a mangled heap.

It was probably the most noise produced in the immense house in years. Rick's name, Michonne's name, God's name and various expletives bounced off the walls and reverberated through the corridor below the winding stairs.

The wooden floors creaked, the wall behind the bed head shook, and Rick's name rang out in a frenzied cry.

His fingers moved with rapid confidence between her legs and they moved together as one with forceful desperation until they —her first and he soon after— reached climax. He buried his face against her neck letting out a deep guttural moan as he convulsed, releasing himself and collapsing against her warm body.

When they finally pulled apart, words didn't come immediately. No witty comments. No declarations. Instead, they lay silently in a sweaty intertwined heap, attempting to catch their breath while staring at the sloped rafters above them.

"That was amazing," she finally said.

"Yeah," he breathed.

She rested her head against his chest and his fingers lazily drew circles on her back as her eyes began to droop. Within minutes his fingers stopped their circular movement and the pair drifted off with the box still unopened and forgotten.

When Michonne woke again she was alone in the bed. There was a lightweight blanket over her and she didn't know how long she had been out. Her eyes moved around the dimly lit room as the previous hour replayed in her mind. She moved to sit up, the dull ache between her thighs, evidence of where he had been. She was consumed with fresh memories of his skin against hers, their breathless whispers and moans of pleasure.

Her eyes found Rick by the window with his back facing her. "Hey." He turned, knowing she was awake, and offered her a dazzling smile.

"Hi." She sat completely nude from the waist up with the sheet pooled around her. "Guess I got a much needed nap." She wondered how long they were out.

He chuckled, but didn't otherwise respond.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked.

"You," he answered. "Tomorrow Porter will be down one person."

She had almost forgotten she was leaving. She had barely spent four days in the town and yet here she was feeling conflicted about a place she was sure she'd be desperate to leave by the end of five days. She would have never thought a place like this would even remotely appeal to her and the fact that Maya moved there of all places served as confirmation of Michonne's suspicions that the woman was nuts. She loved her dearly, but she was convinced she'd lost it.

She saw the charming appeal of Porter now and it wasn't just because of the great sex.

"I...I had…" She had trouble formulating her feelings into words. "This place, Porter, it isn't so bad."

His mouth curled into a wry smile. "Ouch. That the best you can say? I must have did something really wrong."

"No." She bit her lip. "The exact opposite actually."

"So, you're ready to get back to the big city?" he slowly made his way toward the bed.

"Well I do have a life there. A job and all that."

He tilted his head in her direction as he sat down beside her. "You work on Sundays?"

She pressed her lips together, holding back a smile. "No, I don't. I actually go back to work on Monday."

"And tomorrow's Saturday."

She decided to tease him a little. "And yesterday was Thursday. Is there something you're trying to get at Mr. Mayor?" She lightly rubbed her hand against his thigh.

"Calm down there Moreau," he chuckled. "You're starting to do things to me. You like teasing me don't you?"

"Well you started it." She reached for her discarded blouse and bra on the floor next to the bed, feeling his eyes following every movement of her body. "What?"

His eyes moved slowly down her body, stopping at her exposed breasts. "You got somewhere to be today?" He brushed one stray dreadlock over her shoulder, her skin tingling where the tip of his finger touched her.

"You mean other than your attic?" she asked, leaning back against the bed head and reaching behind her to wind her fingers through the winding iron bars. Her clothes were back on the floor where she found them.

He crawled up the bed after her in a cat-like manner. "I like that answer."

Round two it was. She hoped the bed could take it.

 **~...~**

"Well look who it is." Maya put both hands on her hips when Michonne entered the house through the front door. She had been hoping she'd be distracted in the kitchen. "I was beginning to think I wasn't going to see you today. If your stuff weren't still upstairs, I'd have thought you went on back home without telling me."

Michonne felt as if her skin was on fire as she turned to face her mother with what she hoped was a neutral expression that didn't give way her morning sexcapade. She felt like a teenager again under Maya's scrutinizing gaze.

She could imagine how disheveled she must have looked with her rumpled clothing and her dreads pulled messily on top of her head.

"No morning run today?" Maya asked, scanning her outfit which wasn't ideal for running.

"I already went at dawn," she said. "Then I came back to change and...I was getting…" She realized she had forgotten the things at Rick's. That was the whole purpose of going there and they never did get to opening that box. After their second romp, which resulted in a detached socket on the bed, she managed to drag herself out of Rick's attic and back to the house across the street. It wasn't an easy feat.

"Oh honey, I don't need to know what you were getting, You're grown," Maya said, waving her hands in protest. "Just letting you know our little project is done."

She slapped her forehead. "The sculpture! I completely forgot." Her mind was a confused mess. "What time is it?" She had left her phone upstairs and she had no idea how long she was at Rick's.

"Yeah, the sculpture," Maya repeated mockingly, with a grin as she lightly swatted her daughter with a kitchen towel. "It's almost one and it's fine baby. I'm just happy you're having fun out here. You need to get out and enjoy yourself more and stop drowning in work. This place must be a much needed break from everything."

"Yeah," she agreed. "I kinda wish I was staying a little longer. This place is growing on me."

Maya raised a brow. "Is that right? This is coming from Miss. _I don't trust this weird ass town_?"

"I was wrong," Michonne said defensively. "I can admit that."

"Well you _could_ always stay a little longer," she suggested pointedly. "With the type of work you do, you can work from home. I'd love to have you around for a little while longer. I didn't realize how much I missed seeing you until you got here."

"I don't know. We're starting a new project soon, so I really need to meet with my design team on Monday."

"It's up to you baby," she shrugged. "You're basically in charge of your team and Skype exists."

Michonne blew out a breath. "I'm gonna go grab a shower. I'll be back to see your handiwork for tomorrow in a bit."

"It's really good, if I do say so myself, so be prepared to be amazed," Maya called over her shoulder as she made her way back to the kitchen.

When Michonne got upstairs to her bedroom, she quickly stripped out of the sticky clothes. She stopped at the window facing the house across the street on her way to her bathroom, shifting the white curtain aside.

Just looking at the house filled her with bliss. She closed her eyes, almost feeling his lips and skin against her skin. She pictured the little half smile he always wore whenever he finished teasing her. She thought of their talks while riding around town, walking through the woods and just recently laying in bed.

She was falling for him and it scared her like crazy.

* * *

Rick was in the kitchen with Maya when Michonne returned downstairs after her shower. She heard his deep laughter before seeing him and her stomach flipped in anticipation.

"Oh and what's this one?" Maya asked.

"We did a six foot cake that year. We all hated each other at the end of that week," Rick chuckled. He looked up, meeting Michonne's eyes as she stood in the doorway. She could only describe the look in his eye as pure sex and she found herself squirming under his gaze.

She tried to act natural. "Hey Rick."

"Michonne." There was that feeling again. Like a spark, starting deep inside below her stomach, going through her whole body.

"Sweetheart, Rick brought over all this memorabilia from past festivals," Maya said, holding up a turnip shaped trophy. "I also have the perfect stand for this thing now." She pointed to the finished product sitting on the kitchen table. It was about three feet tall and bore a striking resemblance to the Town Hall building.

 _At least Rick remembered._

"You did all that this morning?"

"Oh yeah," Maya said. "It was already halfway done. After the base, it's pretty much easy as pie after that."

"You're a miracle worker."

"I know," she grinned, turning back to Rick. "Rick, I just finished begging my daughter to spend a little more time here with me before you got here. She won't budge. She's a workaholic and I worry."

"I'm standing right here."

"But you won't listen to me." Maya pouted at her daughter. "I'm trying to call in the reinforcements here. Don't interrupt. Shush."

Michonne shook her head, laughing as she went over to the sculpture for a closer look. "Alright, I'm shushing."

"Wish I could say I could help Maya, but I'm not sure I'm very persuasive," Rick said, barely taking his eyes off Michonne.

"Maybe we should get down on our knees and beg," she suggested in a loud whisper. "I don't have any shame in doing it."

"When does the festival actually start tomorrow anyway?" Michonne asked, interrupting the schemers.

Rick answered. "Noon, but the real fun isn't until the evening when they announce the prizes and people start dancing and having a good time. Main Street is going to be really busy tomorrow. Hell, it's probably really busy now with all the preparations."

"You going down there today?"

"Yeah." Rick glanced at his watch. "I have to go make sure nobody starts any more fires. I'll see you two ladies tomorrow."

"Bye!"

"See you," Michonne said, biting her lip. "I'll walk you out."

Maya looked on with a wide grin as the pair exited the kitchen. She took a sip from her coffee mug, shaking her head in amusement as she resumed her preparations for the festival. "She ain't going nowhere," she muttered under her breath in a sing-song tone. "Love is in the air."

In the entryway of the house Michonne and Rick stood facing each other. He had his back to the door and appeared to be in no rush to leave as his eyes searched her face for clues of where her thoughts were. "You okay?"

"Yeah."

"I'm going to see you tomorrow, right?"

She smiled, meeting his eyes. "Of course. I wouldn't miss seeing my mother beat Annette Greene, her nemesis of exactly one month." They laughed at Maya's extreme dedication to winning the big prize of the night.

"Tomorrow then." He took a step toward her, looking into her eyes with that look that made her knees weak and her stomach flutter.

She moved closer, standing on the tip of her toes as she connected her lips with his. Kissing him would never get old. She reveled in having him pressed against her with not even so much as an inch of space between them. His strong arms wrapped around her waist and her hands connected behind his neck as the kiss deepened.

If they weren't somewhat moderately aware they were standing in Maya's entryway with her mere feet away, they may have started stripping each other's clothes off and went for it then and there. The tension was that palpable.

"I really do have to go though," he said softly, lifting her chin with his index finger, so he could look into her eyes. "See you at dawn?"

 _What is this man doing to me?_ She thought as her lips moved to answer. "Definitely." She knew they'd most likely be getting a different type of exercise.

He gave her another quick kiss before pulling away. He really did have to go. Somewhere across town a group of people were waiting, somewhat impatiently for his arrival. He'd always been a punctual man, but Michonne's presence was making things difficult.

"Later." He reached for the door handle.

She felt like she should be making some kind of grand declaration — to either define what they now were or explain the intense feelings bubbling within her — but the right words didn't come.

"See you."

* * *

 **There you have it! That's all for day four. Onwards to day five and possibly the final chapter of this little story. I have a fun wrap-up in mind.**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Let me know what you think!**


	7. Day 5

**Sorry this took so long to come out. I was going to spit it into two chapters, but then it seemed to flow better as one. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews you've left so far. I really appreciate it and I'm glad there's people out there that wanted to read something like this. I've had a great time writing it. I hope you enjoy the final day in Porter!**

* * *

 **Day 5**

Porter, VA - Population: 299

"The plan was to run this morning," Michonne laughed breathlessly, staring up at the ceiling.

"I think like this better than running," Rick responded as he lay back beside her, attempting to catch his own breath. "Sex counts as cardio, right?"

"I think so," she giggled, glancing over at him. "I think I read that somewhere. Maybe in a book."

They were in Rick's bedroom — a considerable improvement from the dusty attic they found themselves in the day before. His bed was far more solid than the little one in the attic and the bright morning light streaming through the window had a rapturous effect on the budding couple. She curled further into his side, running her hand over his chest as she let out a contented sigh.

"Maybe in a book." He repeated her words, chuckling as she scooted closer, rubbing her smooth bare thigh against his.

As promised, he was waiting for her earlier that morning at dawn. When she emerged from Maya's house, she took one look at him standing in the middle of his driveway, hands in pockets and _that_ look in his eye that made her knees quiver, and she knew she wasn't going anywhere but inside his house.

Her voice was so quiet at first, he barely heard the question. "This thing…" she said, a little louder as she gestured between them to emphasize her point. "It's different, but… I don't know."

He leaned over her, looking at her with sincere eyes. "What do you mean?"

She reached up, running her hands across the stubble along his jawline. "I don't know. What exactly are we doing here? This is probably temporary at best. We've literally just met. I've never done anything like this before. I mean, I have a life to get back to. It's not like I can stay here. I've had a great time, but we have completely different lives."

"You've had too much of Porter already?" he replied lightly, as he stared at the ceiling. She couldn't be sure, but she thought she saw a trace of a frown on his face.

"I don't know. I'm overthinking. I think maybe we should just enjoy the here and now." Their eyes locked. She was dying to know what he was thinking, but his face gave nothing away. She was glad. A part of her didn't want to know. There was no use getting too emotionally attached.

He continued staring at her and there was a warmth in his eyes she couldn't quite explain. "You understand how beautiful you are? Can't stop staring."

"I have some idea," she giggled, playfully pinching his side.

"You must get that line a lot? Didn't even phase you."

"Might have heard it once or twice," she said. "But it's a little late for lines now, isn't it?" She looked down at their intertwined naked bodies pointedly.

"Not even close. So, we have about thirteen hours or so to kill before you leave." He smiled mischievously. "What do you wanna do?"

She bit her lip, smiling back at him. "I have a few things in mind."

"Do you?"

"Uh huh," she said, sitting up and throwing a leg over his thighs to straddle his waist. "Can we start here?" She move forward, brushing her lips against the curve of his jaw as her hands threaded in the hair at the nape of his neck. Her lips slanted across his, commencing a slow sensual battle that would confine them to the house for at least another hour.

 **~...~**

There was company in Maya's kitchen when Michonne returned from her morning "exercise". She recognized the man and his wispy white hair from her first day in town. He was smartly dressed and sitting at the kitchen table as he flipped through a newspaper that his eyes followed from over his wire rimmed glasses.

Michonne stepped into his line of sight clearing her throat. "Hi. Morning."

"Hello there!" He looked up from the paper, a look of recognition crossing his face. "Michonne was it?"

She strolled over to the cupboard to get a mug. "Yeah. We met outside a few days ago. I don't think I ever caught your name."

"No, I don't think you did," he said with a fond smile. "David. David Porter."

"Like the town."

He folded the paper and set it aside. "Yes, just like the town. I come from a long line of Porters."

She still didn't know why he was in their kitchen. "So, you're here to see my mother?"

"Yes. I'm actually here to see her submission. I just stayed for the coffee." He held up a floral mug. "I'm one of the judges for today's festival. It's great that you're joining us. It's a unique experience and it brings quite a bit of outside traffic. Great fun for tourists."

"Yeah, I'm pretty excited to experience the whole thing. It's all everybody's been talking about since I got here. It's a great way to end my visit here."

"Oh?"He raised a questioning brow. "Leaving so soon? I don't even think it's been a week since you arrived."

"No, I only planned to spend five days. I'm leaving right after the festival."

She turned at the sound of footsteps descending the stairs in the foyer, seeing her mother entering the kitchen holding a camera. "Hey honey! How was your run? Have you met David?"

"Yeah, we've met and, uh, the run was pretty good," she said, nodding her head a little too vigorously. She suddenly found the patterns on here mug very interesting. "The scenery was amazing as usual. I saw places I haven't seen before."

"Porter is a beautiful town," David agreed enthusiastically. "Did you see the creek? It's beautiful at sunrise."

"Yeah, I went with Rick yesterday morning. It was really beautiful. Almost magical."

David's smile widened at the mention of the man's name. "Ah Rick Grimes. Wonderful young man, isn't he?"

"He is." Michonne thought back to their morning conversation, a tugging feeling in her chest. She couldn't deny that staying a little longer was a tempting idea. So tempting that she feared an extra day wouldn't be enough for her. "Well, I'm gonna go change out of these running clothes and get ready for today. I'll meet you on Main Street, okay? I'm taking the ride with Rick to see the festival setup and everything. He's taking this tour guide thing seriously."

"Oh, honey that's fine," Maya said, waving her off as she started snapping photographs of her turnip art. "You know I'm always fashionably late. Get out there and enjoy your last day. You're still driving back home tonight, right?"

"That's the plan. I'll call you once I'm back home. I gotta meet up with Andrea tomorrow," Michonne called over her shoulder as she exited the kitchen. She didn't turn around to see her mother's knowing smile.

The kitchen was filled with laughter when she returned. David was out of his seat at the table while Rick sat at the island with a cup of coffee.

"Hey," Michonne greeted.

"David was just telling some stories about the festival in the good old days. You missed the best part," Rick said as Michonne came to stand beside him.

"Rick was apparently a little troublemaker," Maya said, as her laughter subsided. "It's a shame we won't get to see that kind of fun today."

"Never say never," said Rick with a tip of his mug as he rose to his feet, resting a hand on the small of Michonne's back. "Something _always_ happens. Anyway, we should head out. I have to go over some last minute things."

Gazing into his intense eyes, she couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. "See you at the festival Mom. How's the sculpture getting over there, by the way."

"David's not just here for coffee sweetheart. We're loading this bad boy into his van."

"Oh, that's really nice of you Mr. Porter."

He waved her off. "I collect all of the entries. Done it for twenty years."

"You guys need any help?" Rick asked.

"Oh, honey that would be nice. We can load it in before they leave."

"Well, I've never been one to turn down help," David agreed, finishing off his hot beverage.

"Great! Let me just get a few quick pictures first and you can go ahead and take it."

* * *

Porter seemingly transformed overnight. The town was bustling and filled with festive spirit. People strolled around wearing themed t-shirts and turnip shaped hats and shopkeepers, bustled about, setting up stands along the street before they officially closed it to all vehicles.

There were constant friendly greetings as Rick and Michonne walked toward the public safety office.

"You really are a superstar here. Did you always want that? To be the Mayor? Or was that just a thing that happened because there's not enough people here?"

"There's more than enough people here," Rick disagreed lightheartedly, shooting her a smile. "And growing up, I was one of those kids that wanted to be everything from a police officer to a firefighter."

"Well you can't say you didn't get your wish."

"Well look who it is. Richard Grimes? A long last?" A brown-skinned woman approached them from the north corner of Main Street. She wore jeans, a turnip festival t-shirt and a light jacket. Her eyes were filled with mirth and she stopped some feet from them, crossing her arms.

Michonne recognized her and her perfect twist-out ponytail from the town meeting on her first day in Porter. She was one of the people on the elected board.

"If I didn't know any better, I would think you were avoiding us," the woman said with a wry smile.

"There can't possibly be any last minute budget issues, can there? That's not possible. Especially not with you."

"No, but there was a final wrap-up meeting and run-through this morning at eight, remember? You sure you don't need a personal assistant to keep up with that schedule of yours? There's enough in the budget for one."

Rick smacked his forehead, closing his eyes at the reminder. "I completely forgot about that Sasha. I'm so sorry. It's been a pretty busy week. I overslept."

"It's all good. Just don't forget the prizes." She waved off his apologies, her eyes focusing on Michonne. "Hi there. Maya's daughter, right? I think I saw you at the meeting on Tuesday, right?"

"Yeah."

"Oh sorry about that. Michonne this is Sasha Williams," he said. "I don't know if it's obvious, but she's the town mortician. Works serious magic on the dead. Sasha this is Michonne Moreau."

"Sure," Michonne snorted, rolling her eyes. "Mortician? I'm not falling for that one again. It's nice to meet you Sasha." She held out her hand for the woman to shake. She remembered them mentioning something about her handling the finances of the board at the meeting. "What do you really do, Sasha?"

Sasha looked amusedly at the couple, laughing softly as she shook Michonne's hand. "No, I really am the mortician. I live above the funeral home on Morty Road and I provide services to Porter and the surrounding county."

"Oh...I'm so…" She looked back at Rick, who was busy cracking up and swatted his arm. "I saw you at the...see what playing jokes on me does? He's terrible."

He held up his hands defensively as deep laughter emanated from him. "I didn't know you wouldn't believe it."

"He's always trying to trick me Sasha. I'm so sorry about that."

"Believe me, I understand this one's sense of humor," she said kindly, giving Rick's shoulder a shove. "You two are too cute. It's totally fine. My job isn't a conventional one. It's why I usually lead in with me being the board treasurer."

"Well unconventional allows for a more interesting life."

"That _is_ true," Saha agreed. "Anyway, welcome to Porter. I hope you've been enjoying our crazy little town in the middle of bumblefuck nowhere. Looks like you already have the best guide this place can offer."

Rick held a hand to his chest in faux surprise. "Did you actually just compliment me? You? Sasha Williams? Is a storm coming? Lightning gonna strike?"

"You should thank your lucky stars," she said wagging a finger at him. "That meeting dragged on for too damn long this morning. I told them you probably slept in with all the craziness that's been happening this week, but no. They just _knew_ you would show up."

"And I didn't."

She patted his arm, smiling sarcastically. "Exactly, so you owe me one. And don't think I forgot about that _obvious_ comment" she said. "Anyway, I've gotta go find that scatterbrained red-headed husband of mine so we can start setting up our stand. Make sure the two of you stop by later. Nice meeting you Michonne."

"You too."

"Yes ma'am." Rick said, as Sasha continued down the road, craning her neck to see past the slow moving people in front of her.

"I can't believe I said that," Michonne laughed, covering her face with her hands.

"Sorry about that. I really didn't think that you wouldn't believe me."

"It was actually pretty hilarious and Sasha seems like a really chill person. When Maya hears about this awkward encounter of the month," she laughed even harder, wiping the corner of her eye. "Oh my goodness. Her face when I said it too. She thought I was nuts for a split second there. Like 'what's wrong with this chick?'"

"I like that you're nuts sometimes though."

"I _am_ not." She playfully rolled her eyes. "Sorry for making you miss your meeting this morning."

He shook his head. "It was all those ideas of yours. It was great exercise, though. Maybe the best workout of my life. I like it more than running."

She couldn't help but at his choice of words. He was ever the comedian. "I'm sure you do."

"Well it's going to be a couple of hours before thing really start swinging." He took her hand in his, leading her down the street. "Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"My office."

She raised a brow. "Oh?"

He stopped in front of the entrance of the Public Safety office, opening the door for her to enter first. "A lot less crowded than the last time you were here."

"I noticed." She bit her lip, fighting back a smile. "Which desk is yours?"

He tilted his head toward the steps on the far side of the room. She didn't notice them before. She followed him across the room and they walked up the staircase that led to the second floor of the building. He placed a hand on the small of her back, pushing her gently into the open space.

It was reminiscent of her first visit to his home and attic.

She strolled past a secretary's desk and a wall lined with official portraits of the past and present mayors and heads of Public Safety until she entered his spacious office area. She sat down on the sofa, facing the windows that overlooked Main Street.

"This is nice," she commented. "Very spacious and open. So, you bring me here for more exercise or…?"

"Or. Just wanted to show you around. The bees kind of killed that for me." He crossed the room in two long strides, sinking down on the couch next to her. His eyes were intense and she found it difficult to tear her eyes away from their entrapment.

"I thought we came to help set everything up." She crossed her legs, angling her body towards his. Truthfully that was the last thing she was interested in. Sure, helping would be nice, but she was enjoying spending time with him. She'd never come out and say it plainly though. "I didn't know we'd be playing hideout."

"Actually we are here to help," he smiled. "Up here is where we keep the prizes for all the competitions."

She glanced around the room. "Where? Under your desk?" she asked with a snort. There wasn't much in the room.

"Nah, the closet over there."

She eyed him with playful suspicion, standing up to investigate.

Behind the wooden door there were shelves lining the three walls and a big oversized cheques that rested against the far wall. "Is that for the one Maya is participating in? She would love this."

"Oh yeah," he said startling her a bit. She didn't hear him move from the couch.

"Isn't there some kind of conflict here, though," she asked. "You were helping my Mom with her submission. How do we know this contest is fair and you're not influencing the judges. Some of them work with and for you, don't they? They hold you in high regard and practically worship you. Is there corruption in Porter Mr. Mayor?"

"People just trust me, Michonne," he said, flashing a cheesy grin.

"I'm sure they do. It's that personality of yours. You give off the whole trustworthy officer friendly vibe."

He simply laughed, stepping past her to remove the trophies and fake checks from the room. "Why do you call her Maya by the way? Sometimes it's Mom and then other times it's Maya."

Michonne glanced over at him, replaying his question in her mind. It wasn't the first time someone asked, but she took a moment to find the right words to explain it to him.

"I don't know. I guess it's because that's what everyone called her when I was a kid and she never really corrected me on how to address her. I remember thinking at one point when I was very little that Maya was just another way to say Mom. I used to call her my Maya actually." She smiled at the faint memory. "Plus, Maya is...different. I was never just her kid. She never wanted to be this big authority figure or whatever. Why do you ask? Does it seem disrespectful?"

"No, no. Just wondering. You two obviously have a really good relationship."

"We do," she agreed. "We're incredibly different people and we probably don't see each other as much as we should, especially since my father's death, but she's my Maya."

She turned back to to Rick's and he was watching her with an unreadable expression. She imagined he had a lot more on his mind than her choice of name for her mother. If he felt even close to what she felt, he was probably wishing she didn't have to leave so soon and wondering if or when she would ever come back for a visit.

In all the time Maya had been living in Porter, Michonne never ventured into their little town.

"You know," she started, moving closer to where he stood. "I'm really glad I met you. I can't think of a better person, to live next to my mother." She walked around him and to his desk where she perched at the edge. "Uh, I'll miss this little town. And to think I was dreading coming to it."

"You can come back and visit anytime you want," he pointed out. "We're always open for visitors. You don't live that far away, do you?"

"Not really."

"And you've never been around for a visit before." He was facing her now.

"My life gets busy sometimes, but I can be flexible." She hooked her legs around him, drawing him closer as he wrapped his arms around her.

"Believe me. I know," he teased.

"Smart ass," she laughed, as he tried to kiss her. "I like it though."

He smiled against her mouth and slid his tongue seductively across her bottom lip, causing her to instinctively tighten her thighs around his lips. Every time they kissed it was as if he was drawing her further in. He kissed her harder, holding her face in his hands as her fingers knotted in his hair.

She could feel him through their layers of clothing and she pressed herself further into him. "Does the door lock?" She breathed, through their heated kisses.

"Locked the main one." His fingers found the top button of her white button-down spaghetti strap dress. Once the buttons were undone, his palm slowly ran from her collarbone, down the front of her body, between her breasts and toward her stomach. He lowered his head, kissing along her shoulder, leaving goose bumps along her skin. "I like this dress on you."

"Do you? Is that why it's off?"

"I'll help you put it back on later."

She reached forward , grasping his belt buckle and beginning to undo it.

"You never told me how long," he said, looking down into her eyes.

"How long for what?" she asked, breathlessly as he grasped the back of her thigh, adjusting her as he wanted.

He pushed her thighs apart, stepping into her again and shifting some books and papers away with a sweeping hand movement. "The drive between your place and here."

"Two hours," she gasped as he moved her backward across the desk, lowering his lips to her lower abdomen. "Maybe I'll leave you my address."

* * *

When they finally emerged from the Public Safety Office the crowd had grown substantially. Despite their afternoon tryst on the office desk (followed by the office floor), they somehow managed to move the trophies the their appropriate location through the back entrance.

Maya materialized from amongst the crowd almost immediately after they stepped out. "Michonne honey. I've been looking everywhere for you."

Michonne smoothed down her dress self consciously. "I was helping Rick with the trophies. You look nice. Is that new?"

Maya glanced down at her flowing tie dye dress. "Newish."

"In any case, you came dressed to win."

Rick excused himself to go to the judges booth. Michonne watched him as he went, her gaze lingering as she took in the moment.

"You've gotten close over the past few days. Stuck up a nice friendship," Maya commented offhandedly. She was focused on her camera, flipping through photos she had taken earlier in the day and those she had just taken of the festivities.

"He's a great person," Michonne said diplomatically. "Easy to like and it's clear that just about everybody does."

Maya was about to respond when something or someone over Michonne's shoulder caught her eye. From the way her smile faltered and her shoulders stiffened, it was clear it was someone she had little to no interest in conversing with.

"Hey Maya!"

"Anette," she said shortly, suddenly finding a booth across the street interesting enough to study from afar.

"I saw your daughter over at the farm with Rick the other day. Hi there," she said, offering a smile to Michonne. "Enjoying your time here? I know it can be a little uneventful at times. Not exactly a fast paced big city life."

"Actually, it's been wonderful and the people here are so friendly. I've been having a great time so far."

"Well I'm glad we made a good impression. I hope that means you'll come back for another visit."

"I think I will."

"Good good," she nodded, turning to address Maya once more. "Maya I just saw your sculpture. It's really nice. I think you've captured the essence of Porter. I've gotta give you kudos for that."

Maya smiled, never one to hold a permanent grudge. "Thanks Anette. And your cake looks really beautiful. I can't wait to have a taste. Did you use fondant for the turnips? It looks so realistic. That's talent. We're in some stiff competition."

"Oh I did and it's actually something that took a long time to get a hang of, but if you stop by the farm sometime, I can show you a little secret or two of mine."

Michonne drowned out the women's conversation, wandering away to explore the various food, drinks and crafts displays that lined the streets of Porter. As she moved from booth to booth, she collected trinkets and tasted dishes that were bizarrely unique to the small town. Maya rejoined her soon after and they even, bravely tried another one of Morgan's strange drink concoctions.

As they passed the post office, Michonne spotted Rick at a podium on the fronts steps with the rest of the board members. It amazed her how he was able to enthrall her with just his presence. Her body vibrated as shots of electricity coursed through her.

The man from earlier, David, leaned in to say something to him and she watched as he tipped his head back letting out a belly laugh. He patted the older man on the shoulder and approached the mic, testing the sound.

"Good Afternoon everyone." His voice spread through the streets and conveyed unmistakable authority. "I'd like to welcome you all to Porter's annual Turnip festival where residents of Porter and visitors alike come together to share in our unique history and small town life. I'm sure many of you have probably heard the story of how the town was founded about a thousand times. You've probably heard about Daniel Porter and how he happened across this land after days of walking and came across a turnip crop that saved his life."

He glanced up at the crowd, a smile on his face. "I won't bore you with all the details, but if you're curious to hear it again there's more than enough people willing to share the story. So, as we mark the beginning of this festival and the end of a week of anticipation, I encourage all of you to visit as many displays as you can and enjoy the food drinks and activities Porter has to offer. I'll turn the mic over to Mr. David Porter now."

Rick's eyes locked with hers in the crowd as he stepped away from the mic. He quickly said something to Sasha from the others, gave a quick wave and descended the steps, making a beeline for her.

"Enjoying yourselves?" he asked as he approached them.

"We are," Maya answered. "It's such a spirited atmosphere. I love it."

"I tried another one of Morgan's weird drinks," Michonne told him. "It was surprisingly better than the last one, but maybe that was just the alcohol fooling me. And look." She held up a hardcover picture book with the words 'The Story of Porter' written across the front.

David prattled on about Porter, how it was founded and the activities they had planned to celebrate. His voice faded away as Michonne focused instead on the conversation between her mother and Rick.

A loud clunking sound interrupted David as he began to explain what time they would begin announcing winners. The crowd looked to the sky in search for the source of the noise. That was where they saw the strange flying contraption in the distance, gliding toward the town from the East.

The contraption resembled sketches she'd seen while in school of early flying machine designs. It appeared impractical, but functional.

"What the hell is that?" Michonne squinted, trying to get a better look at the strange apparatus.

"Fuck!" Rick gasped, grabbing at his hair.

The stunned crowd was filled with anxious murmurs as people offered up their guesses."It looks like some kind of a plane! Or a bird! A bird plane? I don't know!"

"Guys it's clearly some kind of motorized hang glider."

"A what?"

"Are we being attacked?"

The glider circled the unusually crowded town gliding lower looking like a bird in the orange hued sky. The overjoyed exclamations of a man faintly traveled to the ears of the bewildered people down below.

"Who the hell is that?"

"Is this part of the festival?"

"Why is it so low?"

"It's coming down!"

"There's a man in there!"

People scattered to the sidewalk, clearing the road to make way for the unconventional flight to come to an end. An end they all hoped wasn't catastrophic.

David's voice echoed through the street. "Okay, everyone, please remain calm. Clear the path of the street."

"Get out of the road," Dale Horvath yelled, from the front of his shop.

Michonne felt Rick's hand on her arm as he gently pulled her back, away from the road. "Can that thing even fit here?," she asked referring to the wings.

They watched in awe as the canary yellow glider quickly approached the ground. Cocooned in the pod-like undercarriage below the sailcloth wing was a person wearing a helmet and glasses that matched the glider's bright color.

"Is that your…?" Michonne trailed off, looking up at Rick as the glider made a smooth impact with the road in front of them.

He nodded, staring unblinking at the spectacle. "My father."

They rushed over as Rick's father grappled with the harness and climbed out of the contraption. When he pulled the helmet off, he was wearing a cheery grin. "Hello! Happy festival everyone!"

"Dad, What the hell was that?" asked Rick.

"That was some entrance, huh?" The senior Richard Grimes wore a contented smile as he looked up at his son. "It was beautiful son. Just as beautiful as I remembered. Photographs and memories really don't do it justice."

"What?"

He looked back at the glider. "I fixed her and named her. It's all for her. And I know for a fact your mother would be very happy if she experienced it today. The wind, the sky, the freedom! It was like I was back in time when the two of us first took to the skies. We were crazy kids."

The two men exchanged a look of understanding and Rick pulled his father into a hug.

There was a collective sigh of relief and merriment quickly replaced the moment of panic and confusion that Richard's unusual arrival had caused.

Richard greeted Michonne with a warm hug as if they were old friends. "Welcome dear."

"Nice to see you again, Mr. Grimes."

"Yes, yes. Very nice to see you." He tapped his chin, gazing through the crowd. "I've worked up a thirst up there," he said, handing his helmet to Rick. "I'll see what I can find. Want anything?"

"No, that's alright."

"I'm fine dad."

"Well you were right about one thing, Rick," Maya said as Richard wandered off. "Something does always happen. This'll be a story for the grandkids."

Michonne moved closer to Richard's homemade contraption. "I'm guessing this was the cause of that little fire."

"I sure as hell hope so," Rick laughed. "I don't want any surprises bigger than this. And for right now, I'd like the enjoy the rest of the afternoon."

The rest of the afternoon wasn't as eventful in comparison to Richard's entrance. His glider remained in the middle of the road with people stopping every now and then to glance inside the sitting pod and get a closer look at the design.

When the judges finally announced the winners of the various competitions, Maya's sculpture ended up getting second place to Annette Greene's cake. She took it very well and the two women hugged it out, promising to exchange ideas and bouncing around the possibility of a collaboration for the next year.

"So, about that address," said Rick.

"Well I'm not in a huge rush to get back after this...eventful day," she began slowly. "Maybe if you come see me before I leave tomorrow, I can give it to you then."

Andrea was going to kill her for missing brunch.

"Tomorrow, huh?" He chuckled, wrapping an arm around her pulling her against his side. "What are you doing next week? I'd love to have dinner with you sometime, but for two instead of three."

"Are you asking me out Mayor Grimes?"

"Of course."

Her cheeks hurt from grinning so widely. "I'm pretty free next week. Just let me know what time you'll be at my place and it's a date."

He glanced down at her with that unreadable expression again and a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah, I'm _really_ glad I met you."

 **~...~**

At some point in the distant —or not so distant— future, a dark figure emerged from Porter's only diner, across town from where the festival was held. It was sometime in the middle of the night and most of Porter was already indoors.

His shadow melted into the darkness, dancing between the old building and the flickers of the lamp post as he crept away from the building. With him, he carried —or rather dragged— a large wooden board almost bigger than himself and two wooden poles.

He shuffled noisily through the vacant parking lot and across the only road leading into the small town. The sound of the wood scraping against the pavement was like nails on chalkboard. As he stepped onto the grassy roadside, he glanced up at the starry night sky a contented smile on his face.

He then kneeled in the damp grass, imbruing his hands and knees in the dirt as he searched the ground. Once he found what he was looking for, he drove the poles into the ground and he lifted the heavy, wooden board onto the poles.

"A mighty fine day indeed," Eugene Porter said, brushing off the dirt on his hands as he stepped back to admire his handy work.

 **Welcome to Porter**

 **Population: 300**

" **Home of the best turnips in America!"**

He turned away from Porter's newly erected sign, crossing the road to return to the diner while half singing, half humming his favorite song. " _And the Christmas bells that ring there...dum dee dum dee dum dum dum...Well, tonight thank God, it's them instead of you."_

* * *

 **There might be an epilogue/future jump. Don't know when I'll have it out though. Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think in the reviews.**


	8. Day 2192

**Here's a little treat for you. I love this story and this little town so much, I finally decided to revisit the town and its residents. They really know how to throw a party.**

* * *

 **Epilogue: Day 2192**

Porter, VA - Population: 302

" _Goin' to the chapel of love.."_

Michonne stood in front of the floor length mirror, carefully studying her appearance. She wore a sleeveless pale yellow satin dress with lace overlay. The dress clung to her body and gleamed in the mid-afternoon sunlight streaming in from the open windows.

She listened to the sounds of wedding guests moving around the house. There were creaks on the floorboards, doors opening and closing, and the faint sound of buzzing conversation.

From her vantage point, she could see the arrival of cars as they parked along the edge of the street. Her eyes swept over the large blue house across the street. No ivy ferns adorned its sides and the cloud of gloom of the ghosts of the past that hung above it had disappeared. In stark contrast to the day she originally laid eyes on it and it's handsome occupant, it was a picture of springtime merriment.

She loved that house. Before she lived in it, she never gave much thought to living anywhere other than her apartment overlooking the city.

In the days when she imagined a dream house or the kind of place she would live, she was still occupied with childish fantasies and paper fortune tellers. Then as an accomplished moderately happy woman, she just stumbled upon a home that she longed to live in without even knowing it.

The house looked delightful, which was appropriate because it was a day of happiness—one she never anticipated when she first visited the town after her mother's hip injury.

The bedroom door opened behind her and she didn't need to look up or turn around to see who was barging in. "You look absolutely beautiful sweetheart."

"I'm only half-upset with you for talking me into wearing this yellow dress," She said turning to study her reflection from the side. "Yeah, I know. It's _spring_." She attempted to mock her mother's tone.

"And yellow is definitely your color," Maya continued, gliding across the room to stand next to her daughter in front of the mirror. Her ivory and gold dress billowed behind her as she walked. The dress was a physical embodiment of her personality. It was a sleeveless silk faille dress with gold floral trimmings along the neckline and intricate hand beading dispersed below the waistline.

"It's not bad," Michonne said, smoothing her hand over her distended stomach. There was a dull ache in her back that she tried to ignore. "I'm just being dramatic. Mostly because there's an eight pound beach ball in front of me and this color is accentuating that."

"Well It's about time you picked up some of my personality traits," Maya joked. "And it took a second pregnancy and bridesmaid duty at a second wedding to bring it out."

Michonne ignored her comment. She and Maya has always been polar opposites. It was a wonder they got along. Especially considering that they were neighbors.

Maya had been always good with giving her all the space she wanted though.

"You look _really_ nice by the way," she complimented, reaching over to pick off some invisible lint from her mother's shoulder. "I'm so happy for you. It's nice seeing you so happy, well happier than usual."

Maya stared into the mirror, smiling at their reflection. "I'm getting married. _Going to the chapel of lo-ove_ ," she sang off key. She reached across to place a hand over Michonne growing stomach. "And I'm getting another grandbaby pretty soon too. I have a lot to be happy about, so you're gonna have to get used to all this sugary sweet happiness."

"Does it feel like before?" Michonne asked, mentally recalling the stories Maya told her about her first wedding day, long before Michonne was even a possibility.

"In many ways, it does. The sheer happiness..." Tears welled in her eyes. "You're gonna make me cry. We should've flown to Vegas, even though Elvis impersonators creep me out."

"Oh, Maya." She embraced her mother.

There was a knock at the door and they both exchanged a glance of suspicion. "Who is it?" Maya called out.

"It's me." Rick's muffled voice came from the other side of the door. "We were just looking for Michonne, sorry."

Michonne rolled her eyes playfully. "It's fine. You can come in. She's here."

The door swung open and Rick entered with their dark haired little boy in his arms. "I brought you your ring bearer."

"Mommy!" her four-year old leaned out of his father's arms, extending his arms for his mother to take him. He was the picture of cuteness with his little waistcoat and bow tie.

"Hi baby." She reached for him, giving him an awkward half hold because Rick wouldn't let go, fearing she might strain herself. She rolled her eyes, giving him a disapproving look that was met with a sheepish grin.

"Lots of people out there," he commented.

Maya patted his shoulder. "I've got a big backyard. Definitely not as much as your wedding though. That was Porter's Royal wedding. A fairytale that put those boring British ones to shame."

Michonne remembered when the entire three hundred person town along with her friends and extended family was at her and Rick's own wedding, years before. They opted for the church which doubled as the town hall building for their wedding venue because Rick was the most popular figure in Porter…

...

 _The bell in the old steeple rang as Rick and Michonne exited the church, stepping out into the beautiful spring day, exactly one year after they first met._

 _As she looked over at her new husband, she reflected back on her life since meeting him. A year prior, he was a kind stranger in a quirky little town and now she was headed down a new path with the love of her life._

 _Michonne spotted her mother standing among the waiting well-wishers who had begun to line the steps. They threw white petals at the couple as they descended the front steps and began to lead the wedding recessional down the streets of Porter. The flower girls and ring bearer followed directly behind them followed by Andrea—the maid of honor— and the best man, the remaining two bridesmaids and groomsmen, and Maya and Richard._

 _The live wedding band began to play their horns and wind instruments over the gleeful cheer of the following crowd, that walked along the sidewalks clapping and shouting the well wishes. The train of her dress— which was an A-line V-neck made of soft satin fabric—swept against the asphalt as she walked._

 _Porter was truly a town unlike any other when she imagined her wedding day, she never dreamed of a whole community being present or closed off streets or a celebration that would rival every major Porter celebration._

 _While Rick's mother wasn't there to celebrate with them, he had a two hundred ninety-nine person Porter family to represent him at the wedding._

" _I love you," he said suddenly and from the look in his eyes, she knew his mind had drifted to the same place hers had._

 _Tears welled up in her eyes as she repeated the heartfelt phrase. They shared a lingering kiss as they approached the large blue house that was now their home and where the reception slash street party of the decade would be held._

 _She couldn't think of a better person to spend the rest of her life with. "I'm glad I married you Mayor Grimes."_

" _I'm glad you married me too…"_

...

"You have a very important job today," Michonne said, leaning slightly forward to meet her son's eyes, who Rick placed at the edge of the large canopy bed. She would have attempted to stoop, but her back was beginning to ache more.

"I have to carry the rings!"

"Yes, and you're going to do an excellent job." Michonne glanced up and Rick and then her mother. "By the way, who has the rings?"

"Rings." Rick patted his pockets, searching for the bands and if he had patted even a second longer, she would have started panicking. "Got 'em right here."

"I love you, but I would have beat you bloody with my bouquet if you lost those rings," Maya said, doing a spin in front of the mirror, before gliding toward the door. "Get the boy ready. I'll be back."

"You know me better than that Maya," he chuckled. "I wouldn't lose your rings."

Maya spoke loudly from the hallway. "Well you _do_ keep this town functional."

Michonne stood back, watching as Rick stooped down in front of the bed to help their son with his dress shoes. The years had been good to them. He was her steady rock. A wonderful man who strolled into a diner one spring day and stole her heart.

"Stop staring at my a-double-s in front of the kid," he teased, the smile audible in his voice.

"Well it's right in front of me...and he can hear you," she said through peals of laughter and lightly swatted the back of his head.

"You're right, I should have said ass because he obviously knows what I meant," he said, grinning up at her mischievously. "We've got a future spelling bee champion here."

Their son just looked between his parents as if they were a pair of confusing creatures he had yet to understand.

"Okay people we're about ready to begin," Sasha said, waltzing into the room, clapping her hands. When she's not putting makeup on dead people, planning funerals and managing budgets, she plans weddings. She produced a satin pillow and snapped her fingers at Rick. "The rings?"

He held out the delicate box, which she securely attached to the pillow.

"So, you're gonna want to head down and take your seat," she said to Rick. "We'll take it from here."

"See you outside beautiful." He gave Michonne a quick kiss before following an impatient Sasha's instructions.

Sasha let out a humorless laugh after Rick disappeared. "For a supposedly small, intimate wedding, this has been surprisingly challenging to coordinate."

"Not as challenging as mine."

"Got that right," she muttered, her eyes searching the room. "Now where is the bride? We're starting on time this time."

Once Sasha got them all in order, descended the stairs and waited near the back doors with Sasha's six-year old daughter who would serve as the flower girl and her son's walking partner. The serene sound of the violin crept into the house. It was tender, yet piercing as it reached a crescendo and the children started walking.

Michonne linked arms with Maya and the two women exchanged heartwarming smiles.

Michonne walking Maya down the aisle—just as the latter did for the former—was symbolic of them embracing their changing extended family as they let new love in. Maya moved to Porter for a rebirth and that is what they both received, whether they anticipated it or not.

"Mommy!" a little voice shrieked as Maya and Michonne walked out of the house and began approaching the aisle between the rows of white chairs.

Her son had made it halfway down the aisle before making a U-turn and running back to his mother. Michonne was grateful that Sasha thought to secure the box to the pillow, because as he ran, the pillow flopped in all directions beside him.

The guests erupted into indulgent laughter as Michonne bent forward slightly, opening her arms for her little boy, who hugged himself to her side. Rick gave an apologetic shrug as he joined in on the laughter.

"What's wrong? You don't want to walk alone?"

He shook his head. "With you. I'm scared."

"You want to help me walk grandma down the aisle?" she asked. "She won't mind if you walk with us."

He nodded, peeking up at his grandmother with a smile.

Maya held out her hand for her grandson. "You can hold my other hand."

He grinned, taking his grandmother's hand as his mother stood on her other side. They continued down the aisle, three generations as one.

…

 _The blue house, looked like a mixture of something out of a fairy tale and a wedding catalogue. The back garden was overflowing with flowers and joyful wedding guests. There a white canopy tent for the feast where the band played the instrumentals to every love song known to man._

 _Rick and Michonne had posed for more photos than they could count as the wedding photographer snapped away. Once Michonne had changed into her reception gown they made their grand entrance, which was met with cheers and the sound of trumpets._

" _Ladies and gentlemen, I present Mr. and Mrs. Grimes!" David Porter's voice boomed as the couple emerged. The guests cheered as he announced the rest of the wedding party with an equal amount of pageantry and flair._

 _The wedding party sat at a long elevated table at the front of the immaculately decorated tent as their catered dinner was served. Once all the guests were seated and eating Morgan stood, hitting the back of a fork against his champagne glass._

" _I've been told it's time for the toast," he announced, commanding the attention of the room. "As the beat man to that guy over there, I've got a few completely unprepared things to say. I may or may not have googled 'funny best man speeches' and it may or may not have suggested that I shower the bride with compliments. Maybe I thought that one up myself."_

 _The guests laughed as he continued. "You look beautiful tonight Michonne and I think someone as caring, funny and sweet as you deserve a hell of a husband. Thankfully, Rick has always been an incredibly lucky man, so I'm glad she married him before she found one." Rick let out a belly laugh, shaking his head. "But seriously, Rick and I go way back and he's the bravest, kindest, and most talented person I've ever met and if you didn't marry him, I was seriously considering proposing to him myself. We've been friends through thick and thin and he's always been loyal. He is a wonderful man and he'll be an even more wonderful husband to you. So, let's toast to this lucky man and beautiful, brilliant wife."_

 _..._

At the end of the aisle, Michonne enveloped her mother in a hug, with her son squeezing in on the side to be a part of the loving embrace.

"I'm so happy for you," she said, before presenting her to the tall black man with salt and pepper hair who would be an official part of the family by the end of the hour. She took her son's hand and stood to the side.

"You can now be seated," Father Gabriel said to the guests. "We are gathered here this afternoon to witness this man and woman join together in holy matrimony."

Michonne looked on as the priest said his speech. Her eyes shifted to her husband (who was seated beside his eccentric father) as they began exchanging vows and she was filled with elation.

She remembered her own wedding day and the bundle of emotions that filled her when she came face to face with the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with in his strange, but charming town.

It was as if she married both Rick and Porter that day and she couldn't be happier for it.

Someone cleared their throat, breaking her out of her mental musing.

"The rings?" Father Gabriel asked, as if this wasn't the first time he was asking.

"Oh!" She gently nudged the little boy forward to present the rings.

...

" _Alright. Settle down everybody. Mr. and Mrs. Grimes have just finished adding their tokens of love to the anniversary capsule, which they will open ten years from now." David's eyes were filled with mirth. "The bouquet toss is coming up real soon, I promise. First, they'll dig in to that very large cake."_

 _Rick took Michonne's free hand in his as they began cutting into their massive six tier taupe and ivory wedding cake that stood front and center where all the guests could see._

 _There were multiple flashes of cameras and an eruption of applause and cheers._

 _Michonne held up a piece of cake and Rick took a bite before feeding her some as well._

 _They went on to do all the normal wedding rituals. They had their first dance on the dancefloor, they made their rounds, thanking guests, and they sat down and barely ate their dinner._

 _Sometime later, when Rick was satisfied that they had fulfilled all their wedding duties, he led her out of the tent and away from the partying townspeople._

" _Enjoying yourself?" he asked, pulling her against his side._

" _I actually am," she laughed. "I never dreamed that I'd have a big white wedding. I always thought it would be something super low key at a courthouse or something. This was better than I could ever imagine."_

" _Yeah, everything is over the top in Porter."_

" _So am I officially a member of the Porter family, now?"_

 _He pursed his lips, looking her over in jest as they entered the house through the back french doors. "I'd say so."_

 _Unfortunately for the newlyweds, another pair got the idea to slip away from the party for alone time. Their heads were close together, lips touching lips. They immediately pulled away once realizing they were no longer alone._

" _Mom?"_

" _Oh hi sweetheart," she said, stepping away from the man and smoothing down her dress. "Have you met Dr. Stevens? He's a Philosophy professor at a college a few miles from here."_

" _Uh...Hi," Michonne said, recognizing the tall brown-skinned gentleman from seeing him around town. The situation was as awkward as it could possibly be, so she decided to continue with introductions. "I'm Michonne and you obviously know my husband, Rick."_

 _It felt nice to refer to him as her husband. The word sent tingles down her spine._

" _I do," his deep voice boomed. "I wouldn't be a proper resident of this town if I didn't know the mayor."_

" _Dr. Stevens and I were just talking about the philosophy of love and desire," Maya said, with a wink at her daughter. "I've got a great book recommendation to share with you later Michonne." She linked her arm through Dr. Steven's and began leading him out of the dining room. "Let's give the newlyweds some alone time David, I think I hear my favorite song."_

 _Rick and Michonne exchanged amused glances as the pair exited the house._

" _I think my mother just got herself a wedding fling."_

…

"It is my honor and delight to declare you husband and wife. You may now share your first kiss as husband and wife."

Maya and her new husband kissed, eliciting exclamations of approval from the wedding guests.

"I am pleased to present the newlyweds, Mr. and Mrs. Stevens!"

Applause filled the backyard as the trumpets sounded and the bride and groom, followed by Michonne and the two children, walked up the aisle.

An hour later, music filled the backyard and Rick found Michonne, pulling her to the dancefloor for a dance.

"You know, it's the anniversary of the day we first met," Michonne said, as they moved back and forth on the dance floor. "It's been exactly two thousand one hundred and ninety-two days."

He stopped their movement, staring down at her with a furrowed brow. "You've been counting?"

"Of course not," she scoffed, playfully rolling her eyes. "I looked it up this morning when I realized what day it was. Counting would be more of your thing. You're the one that's always full of surprises."

"Am I?" He smirked. "At least I know I'm not boring you after all these years."

"No, you still manage to surprise me with your many talents."

"And what exactly might those be?"

"Maybe I'll tell you later," she said in a blasé manner, enjoying the banter. "I'll tell you one thing though…" she tilted her head up to whisper in his ear. "Best personal trainer I've ever had. I'm looking forward to catching up on exercise."

He smiled, drawing her closer to his body. "Want to get out of here?"

"We've stayed a whole hour," she said, nodding in affirmation.

They glanced toward the table where their son sat with his grandfather and Eugene Porter. The man had spread a long piece of paper across the table and was moving a pencil across the paper with wide strokes as his grandson looked on with rapt attention.

Ever since the day Richard Grimes Sr. flew above the little town of Porter on the night of the annual turnip festival, something in him changed. He was no longer the hermit father of the most famous man in town who lived in a secluded cabin in the woods. He was now the eccentric—formerly hermit—father of the most famous man in town who lived in a charming cabin in the woods.

By Porter's standards, it was an immense upgrade in social standing.

"Let's make this quick," he said, taking her hand and beginning to lead her away for a quick round of 'exercise'.

They crossed the empty street and made their way up the driveway of the blue house when Michonne stopped suddenly. She felt a mild popping sensation in lower body followed by a trickle of fluid between her legs. Her grip on Rick's hand tightened.

"Rick."

"What's wrong?" He asked, looking her over with a furrowed brow.

"I think my water just broke," she whispered breathlessly. Her water never broke with her first child, so a flurry of questions buzzed through her head. Particularly since she wasn't sure if this meant she was in labor or not since there were no strong contractions yet. "Oh my…"

"Oh shit! That definitely didn't happen last time." He ran his hand through his hair, looking down as if expecting to see a large puddle pooling out beneath her. "I guess that's a no on the exercise plan."

"Of course your mind goes to sex!"

"You're the one who suggested it," he muttered, looking between her and the house as he tried to decide the next course of action. "Okay, so you wait here and I'll get your bag and my keys and we can go."

"We should probably let…" Michonne threw her hands up, as Rick bounded into the house, leaving her standing in their walkway. "Just when I thought we were going to have a nice normal day."

She rubbed her belly and considered walking back across the street to get Maya who was a doula during her younger years. The idea of potentially disrupting the reception kept her in place.

In record time the garage door opened and the car backed out into the driveway. She started walking across the lawn and toward the car. Instead of stopping as she expected, the car backed completely out of the driveway, the tires squealing it sped down the street like a bat out of hell.

Michonne laughed humorlessly as she watched, stunned, as her husband rushed off to the hospital without her. "I'll kill him. I..." She sighed, wadling back toward the house to change her clothes and wait for her husband to discover he left the woman in labor behind.

By the time she was slipping out of her dress, she heard his voice echoing downstairs. "Michonne?"

"Forgot something?" she called back.

She listened as his feet pounded against the steps in his mad dash to get to her. "I couldn't find you," he said breathlessly. "I took off and you weren't in the car."

"Yeah," she laughed, as she slipped into a loose sundress. "I thought you'd figure it out soon enough."

He walked over to her, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. "I'm sorry baby."

"You're forgiven for now."

"Before you say that, I should tell you that Maya and a handful of other people know."

She gave him a disapproving look, rolling her eyes. "Rick."

"I couldn't find you, so I thought you went over there," he explained. "I can't believe I forgot you. This is our second time, so it's not like I'm some kind of amateur. It's fine though. I told her we have everything under control. She's on babysitting duty until this little one gets here."

"In a few hours we're going to be parents to two kids."

"Yeah." Their eyes met and they shared a silent, but profound, moment reflecting on their current position in life and the immense joy they shared.

"Let's try this hospital thing again, with me in the car this time."

"Right," he chuckled, sheepishly.

* * *

~...~

On the morning after Porter's newest newlyweds were joined in matrimony, a room in the maternity ward of the County General Hospital was filled with well wishers who were all trying to catch a glimpse of Porter's newest resident.

"She has your father's smile," Maya Moreau-Stevens said, cradling the newborn in her arms. "Hello darling. I'm your grandmother."

"She's absolutely precious," Dr. Stevens said, looking over his wife's shoulder to see the baby she was hogging. "A wonderful wedding present."

Rick sat down beside his wife taking her hand in his as they watched their family fawn over the little person they made. He watched as Maya took a seat to show their son how to hold his sister while Rick's father looked on with a proud smile.

"I can't believe she's here already," Michonne murmured. "We have a daughter."

"Me either. Time has gone by really fast this time around. We've just raised Porter's population to three hundred and three," he said softly. "Eugene's probably putting out a sign as we speak. We really don't waste time, do we?"

"Two thousand one hundred and ninety-three days," she reminded him with a grin.

"And counting," he added, leaning in to kiss her. "Thousands more to come."

* * *

FIN!


End file.
